


cold water

by dell_x



Category: GOT7
Genre: College, Long-Distance, M/M, Olympics, Year Abroad, chinese markson is my kink, edit//it's p angsty, fencer jackson is my kink, gymnast mark is my kink, jingyeom if u read too far into things, my boys are bad at feelings, not too angsty hopefully but i'm emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7719520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dell_x/pseuds/dell_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mark's friends think he works too hard. he would be perfect for jackson. mark has never met jackson. but mark has had a crush on jiaer for months. mark's friends have never met jiaer.</p><p>jackson's friends think he works too hard. he would be perfect for mark. jackson has never met mark. but jackson has had a crush on yien for months. jackson's friends have never met yien.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this doesn't get confusing, comment if you have questions. i also know a lot about gymnastics but barely anything about fencing so i hope it all works out. btw when markson are together they're speaking mandarin all the time, and i hope i anglicised their names correctly. enjoy!!

“For the last time Bam, I’m not interested.” 

“But hyung,” Bambam whined, “You’d be perfect together! If you’d just meet him-“

“Not. Interested.” The look on Jackson’s face would be enough to deter anyone with a healthy sense of self preservation. However, this was Bambam.

“Look, you’re both bordering on unreasonably sporty, you’re both Chinese Americans so you’re both foreigners and can bond over how much you miss the old country, and you’re both really good looking. It couldn't get any more perfect!" 

“Going by that logic I’d already have three kids with Yifan,” Jackson replied, running a hand through his hair and suppressing a sigh. “And again for the last time, I’m not American. How do you even know this guy?”

“His roommate is friends with Yugyeom.” Bambam replied. Someone who hadn't been forced to spend obscene amounts of time with the boy wouldn't have noticed the slight reddening of his cheeks, or the sudden interest in the coffee cup sitting in front of him. Jackson however, had learnt to read the expressions of his unwillingly acquired shadow like an open book.

“Yugyeom? You’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately.” Jackson said, smirking as he stirred his coffee.

“Stop changing the subject!” Said Bambam, vaguely flustered. “It’d just be one date, or even a group thing if you’re that afraid. You’ve not even seen him, my sources tell me he’s a knockout.”

“Your sources being Yugyeom?” Replied Jackson, enjoying how distressed Bambam seemed to be getting. “What’s his name anyway?” 

“Don’t know.” Bambam said. “Can’t remember his surname either, something Chinese-“ he cut off as he avoided being hit in the head by Jackson. “He lives abroad I think but his family is definitely from China. One of the warm bits.”

“Oh well that narrows it down doesn't it?” Jackson said, mildly scathing. “Whatever man, you’re not exactly the most qualified with these things. Remember Seokjin and Momo?” 

“How was I supposed to know she was a lesbian?" Bambam said, wincing. “And you’re changing the subject again! I don't suppose you're interested in someone else…?" 

Jackson said nothing, just stood up abruptly, chucking some money onto the table and leaving the cafe in a less than dramatic manner.

 

 

“And he’s got muscles, and he speaks loads of languages, plus he’s obnoxiously loud so he’ll make up for you being freakishly quiet. It’s perfect! I can even tell you his coffee order so you feel you know him, baristas honour.” Youngjae looked over at Mark expectantly, eyes wide and expectant. Mark however, was focused on the TV, looking every bit as though he had not heard a word Youngjae had just said. “Mark?” 

Mark looked up at Youngjae, and shrugged. “I’m sorry Jae, I’m not interested.”

“But why not? You probably weren't even listening!” Youngjae said, lower lip sticking out slightly, “The whole time you’ve been here, you’ve never had more than a hookup. All you do is train, study, and tutor. And drink. It’s not healthy hyung! What’s the point of doing a year abroad if you’re not gonna have some fun? One night stands don't support you emotionally!”

“I’m fine Youngjae, don’t worry. And I don’t think I’m the unhealthy one when all you eat is ramyun. Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t have time to date anyway, with training.” 

“Exactly! You spend every free minute you have at the gym, you deserve this. Go out, meet someone, go for walks on the beach or something.”

“Maybe one day Jae,” Mark said, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, don't stay up too late.”

“You deserve love Mark!” Youngjae called as Mark was leaving. “You’re allergic to cats! What will become of you?”

 

 

Jackson had been tutoring in Mandarin ever since he came to Korea. His fencing scholarship covered everything except living expenses, but with almost every free minute spent training, he had no time to get a part time job, and Jackson felt guilty having to rely on his parents. Tutoring was flexible, on campus, and it was a skill Jackson already had. 

More often than not, Jackson tutored in the library. It was warm, and quiet, and the librarian seemed to be going blind, as she never noticed the cups of coffee Jackson always snuck in. It mostly was just Jackson helping students with their speaking skills, meaning Jackson got payed to talk to people, which, after fencing, would probably be Jackson’s dream job. 

There were quite a few of them that tutored. Yixing and Zitao took time out their busy social lives, Zitao mainly in it for the money to spend on clothes. It was Amber, Luhan, and Tzuyu, mostly, but even Yifan pried himself away from his apartment to help out the occasional student.

Jackson loved it, to be honest. He missed being around other people who spoke his language, not having to explain his badly translated jokes, or having to worry about accidentally swearing. Even getting called by his Chinese name made him feel warm inside each time it was said. 

Another reason he enjoyed it so much was Yien. Jackson couldn't lie, to himself or to anyone else, should they ask. Yien was funny, in his own way, and when Jackson got him to laugh he swore his heart jumped into his mouth. They both grew up speaking both English and Mandarin, (and Cantonese in Jackson’s case), they both moved unreasonably far away on scholarships, and they were used to the other's hectic schedule. But those were the only reasons he liked Yien so much. They were friends. Good friends. Friends. 

Yien was on a sports scholarship, and he, like Jackson, was training for the Olympics. He was a student at an American college but had come to an agreement with his coach that he could do a year abroad so long as he kept up his training, and sent progress reports back every so often. But Yien loved nothing more than gymnastics, asking him not to train would be like asking him to stop living.

It had been Jackson who had first approached Yien, after seeing him a few times around campus. He still cringed a little when he thought of the first thing he ever said to him.

 

—

 

_“Have we met before? Do I know you from somewhere?” Jackson asked in Mandarin as he stood in front of the boy, blocking him from walking away, before realising how creepy he sounded. “I mean I do. Know you. From somewhere. I'm Jiaer.”_

 

_The boy had only laughed. He sounded like the snow that was falling onto the courtyard. “I’m Yien. I don’t think so, I’m sure I would've remembered you.”_

 

_“Same to you,” Jackson replied, vaguely relieved the boy hadn't ran off in fear, or hit Jackson in the face. “I'm sure it was recently, have you been to Korea before?” Jackson, again, realised how forward he was being._

 

_“I was here in September actually, for the Asian Games.” Jackson’s face lit up at this._

 

_“Taiwan! You’re the cute American flippy one from Taiwan!” Jackson immediately clapped his hand over his mouth when he’d realised what he’d just said. Yien seemed to be laughing though, so Jackson continued, still mortified. “I’m a fencer, I competed for Hong Kong. I remember seeing you about the place.”_

 

_Yien’s smile seemed to widen at this. “I'm in floor gymnastics. And I remember, you won bronze didn't you?” Jackson’s blush deepened even further._

 

_“You’re one to talk! You won silver, how’d you end up here? You’re American aren't you?”_

 

_“Year abroad.” Yien said. “Compete in a few university competitions and I get a coach out of it. And I was born in Taiwan so I have dual citizenship.”_

 

_“Seems we have a lot in common Yien. Do you want to get coffee or something? Or not, that’s okay too. Or smoothies or something, if you’re on a diet, or protein shakes or-“_

 

_“Coffee sounds good Jiaer.”_

 

_—_

 

“I’ll see you on Saturday Sehun,” Mark said, before wandering back through the bookshelves. There was something about this place that always had him feeling calmer when he left than he had when he came in. The thick quiet enveloped him, the smell of old books and coffee letting him breathe just a little bit easier. He'd always needed to feel like it was okay to be with himself for a while.

Mark reached his destination, another set of tables hidden amongst the books. Jooheon looked up at Mark as he approached, but swiftly looked down when Mark raised a finger to his lips. Mark had always prided himself on being quiet, and it often came in useful.

Mark crept towards the table, going unnoticed by the person who had their back to him. Mark slipped his hands over the persons eyes, enjoying how they jumped out of their skin and let out a yelp. 

“Guess who?” Mark asked, smoothly slipping back into Mandarin. 

“Minghao. Victoria. Jun. Eric. Eric!” Mark sighed before swinging himself around to perch on the end of the table, hitting Jiaer round the back of the head. Jooheon let out a bark of laughter before anxiously ducking his head back down. “Yien! I never would have guessed!”

Mark just rolled his eyes. “Sorry for interrupting Jooheon, but _someone_ said they’d be done earlier.”

“It’s okay,” Jooheon replied, looking vaguely pleased with himself for understanding. "we were just about finished anyway. I’ll see you next week?”

Jiaer smiled at Jooheon and watched him leave before turning to Mark. “Would it kill you to be patient for once?” and though his words seemed harsh, his eyes were soft and he reached up to clasp Mark’s hands in his own. “Are you tired? Did you eat already?” Mark shook his head, prompting Jiaer to stand up, turning his back to Mark. “We can go get something, training isn't till the afternoon tomorrow, so it’s okay. And you’ve got late practice too right?”

Mark nodded, leaning forward and resting his forehead against the top of Jiaer’s shoulder blade. He stiffened slightly, as though he was holding his breath, before relaxing and continuing to pack up his books.

“Let’s go sleepyhead,” Jiaer said, letting his hand rest at the small of Mark’s back as they left.

 

 

“And what sort of time do you call this?” Jaebum asked, his arms folded and lips pursed. “No call, no text, you could've just sent a poop emoji to let me know you weren't dead in a ditch.”

“Chill out Jae,” Jackson said as he locks the door “I just got something to eat after tutoring.”

“With who?” Jaebum continued as Jackson wandered into the kitchen, even though he knew the answer. 

“Just Yien,” Jackson said as he opened the fridge and began to drink milk out of the carton.

“Yien Yien Yien. Yien did this, Yien did that, that reminds me of Yien. Are we ever gonna meet this guy? It’s been what, five months?” 

“Four months, three weeks, six days.”

“Five months!” Jaebum said, ignoring how Jackson knew the date exactly. “Soon enough vacation’ll start, you’ll go back to Hong Kong for training, and then you’ll be studying so much when we get back. And then you’ll leave again for training and not be back till the fall semester, and then it’s graduation, and that’ll be it! Are you embarrassed of us?” 

“No Jaebum, don’t be so dramatic. Is it wrong for me to keep some things to myself sometimes?” Jaebum looked slightly taken aback. Jackson never passed up an opportunity to talk about himself. “Besides, he’s shy.”

“I swear Jackson, when you leave for training in December, we’ll hunt him down, and you can’t stop us.”

“Good luck with that,” Jackson snorted, retreating back into his room. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean Wang?” Jaebum yelled, but by that time Jackson had disappeared into his room.

 

 

“Hyung!” Yugyeom cried, appearing in front of him suddenly, startling Mark. “Where in China are you from? I know it’s a warm place, cause then you wouldn't be so tanned, plus you have that chilled out ocean vibe, so I was just wondering cause me and Bam have been thinking of-“

“Gyeom! I was looking for you!” Yugyeom was interrupted by the appearance of of a skinny kid, who pressed his hand against Yugyeom’s mouth, muffling whatever words he’d intended to say. “Sorry about this hyung, we really have to go, see you later!”  

The two boys left, furiously whispering, leaving Mark confused as he made his way to his lecture hall. 

Mark, for some reason, had decided to get a degree in business and applied mathematics. Gymnastics wouldn't last forever, and any day his career could be ended by a twisted landing, failed flip, or even stumbling on the stairs. His dad had always told him to have a whole alphabet of plans to go through if Plan A failed, and working in an office didn't seem so bad to Mark if he'd managed to spend just a few years doing what he loved. 

Mark felt a twist in his gut at the thought of having to give up gymnastics. There was something about the way time seemed to freeze as you flipped. It all happened so fast, each move over in a matter of seconds. But while you were up there, you felt invincible, immortal even, like the very air around you was bending to your will. Like you were flying.

Stanford had suited him. For one thing, Mark was by no means the only Olympic hopeful there. The entire campus was filled with athletes, so he was never looked at oddly for staying at the gym all day, going for a jog at four in the morning, or pouring protein powder onto every meal. The campus was beautiful too, and he was close enough to Los Angeles that he could visit his parents, but far away enough that he had some sense of independence.

It had been a big deal when he’d decided to do his Junior year abroad. It was half his Junior year and half his Senior year, given that Korean colleges ran from March to December. But that suited Mark too, meaning he’d graduate early and he could devote all his time back in California to training. He had a good work ethic, if he said so himself, he’d taken as many AP classes as he could, and his year in Korea and his gymnastics meant he was planning to graduate as soon as he got back to Stanford.

So Mark didn't have a lot of free time. But that was fine. It never bothered him that much. Mark was quiet, and even though his friends were a bit wild, he always had the excuse of training to get out of things when he didn't feel up to it. And he wasn't even lying. Usually. Not that Mark didn't like alcohol. He was always a bit of a drinker, just a bit less partial to the party scene. Korea had more of an alcohol culture than America, so he’d honestly expected that he’d spend more time wasted here than he had back at Stanford, (especially as it was actually _legal_ for him to drink here). But Mark had been so focused on training and studying he never had much of a chance. And the rest of his free time was spent tutoring. Or with Jiaer. And Mark never really wanted to be drunk around him. He'd rather spend every second completely conscious.

Mark had gotten into tutoring because of him. Jiaer had approached him late at night a week before Mark started college here, speaking in rapid Mandarin. Mark didn't have the heart to tell him then he spoke Korean and English too, and besides, speaking Chinese made him feel a bit more grounded. It had started to snow just then, so they’d gotten coffee and swapped stories about injuries acquired through their sports. They’d gotten onto the subject of finance and Jiaer had told Mark about tutoring. So that’s what Mark did. 

It had helped Mark get used to speaking a bit more too. He mainly helped out with Mandarin, cause it helped him practice too, but he wasn't opposed to the odd bit of English help too. That’s how he met Jinyoung. 

 

Park Jinyoung terrified Mark when he’d first met him. For one thing, he spoke fluent Japanese and Mandarin, and was practically a native English speaker, only needing help with his conversational skills because he sounded _too good_ to be a native. He’d shown up in a shirt and leather loafers, which immediately threw Mark off, still used to the Southern Californian dress code of bare feet and board shorts, but his cat like eyes and scathing comments about their fellow students had Mark laughing and soon enough they were something that could be considered friends. Mark still barely had time to see anyone, but Jinyoung seemed fine with crashing at Mark’s apartment and watching movies with Mark and his roommate, Youngjae. 

Youngjae had been Mark’s international contact due to his “English speaking skills”. Mark’s four month old niece spoke better English than Youngjae. Mark’s _dog_  had spoken better English than Youngjae. But it never bothered Mark, it got him speaking Korean and Youngjae always did everything he could to help him settle in, even helping Mark find the weird foreign yoghurt he liked and download a VPN so Mark could stream the basketball. And Youngjae was now able to have a conversation in relatively understandable English, and Mark felt an odd sense of pride whenever he saw Youngjae watching American films without looking at the subtitles. Yugyeom hung about with Youngjae too, having been friends with him in high school and Yugyeom being almost intentionally socially awkward. But somehow he’d gone and got himself a boyfriend, who Mark was growing fond of, from the few instances he'd been allowed to see him. 

Mark hadn't told them he was a gymnast. They knew he did some kind of competitive sport, but they didn't know what, and they certainly didn't know how big of a deal it was. They must’ve just assumed Mark was super into bodybuilding or something, and had learnt all those flips he did to impress girls. He’d even gone so far as to not tell them where in China he was from, or his Chinese name, in case they somehow came across evidence of his career. If someone would ever ask Mark why he never told them, he didn't think he could answer.

Maybe it was the same reason he never let them meet Jiaer. For one thing, they’d ask how they’d first met and saying “we bonded over being Chinese” just wouldn't cut it, but telling them “I saw him at an international sports competition we were both competing in and I've thought about him every day since” also didn't seem right.

Jiaer was different. They almost only spoke Mandarin to each other, hell, Mark barely even remembered his English name. It was Jackson. Jason? No, it was probably Jackson. And Jiaer never used Mark's English name anyway, he was sure Jackson had called him _Jark_ once. Besides, they both used their Chinese names in tournaments, so they ought to get used to it. 

Jiaer felt a little bit like home. Mark had been born in Taiwan but moved to California when he was five. He’d always been getting into trouble, rolling around and swinging on things, trees, lamp posts, cabinets. His parents however, instead of getting mad, enrolled him in gymnastics almost as soon as they’d arrived in California. And it was the best thing that had ever happened to Mark. Even when they were living in South America, his parents would find him a gymnastics class before they found a school for him and his siblings. When they were in Taiwan on vacation he’d train there, and that’s how he’d been scouted for the Asian Games team, and then Team USA finally took notice of him, and they made him what he was. Gold medal winner at the American Nationals, Silver medal winner at the Asian Games, World Artistic Gymnastics Bronze medal winner. And lonely. He was lonely. For a while at least.

 

 

“So I’m sitting there in the locker room, my clothes are gone, my foots still stuck in the trash can, Coach is hammering on the door, and I still can’t find the damn- are you okay Yien?”

Jackson had been so caught up in his story that he hadn't noticed Yien staring at the table. Now that he thought about it, he’d stopped making interested little noises the way he usually does about five minutes ago. 

“Yien,” Jackson said quietly, reaching over their coffee cups to brush his cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing Gaga, don't worry. So Coach was at the door…” Yien trailed off as he felt Jackson’s glare burning into his face. “I was just a bit sad cause this is the last time I’ll see you till after vacation, it’s stupid, just ignore me.”

Jackson felt something well up in his chest and into his throat. He leant across the table and grabbed Yien’s hands, clutching them tightly. “It’s not nothing Yien, don’t say that. I’m sad too, but I know I’ll see you when I get back, And we’ll text every day. We’ll even video call twice a day instead of once, if that makes you feel better. There’s only a fifteen hour time difference, that’s not much right?”

Jackson saw Yien’s face fall at that, and he felt his stomach fall even further as he said it. “You’re the one doing the finance degree, so what’s the maths for that?” Yien bit his lip as he thought and something flew through Jackson’s stomach. 

“You finish at around four. Allowing for travel time you’d get home around five, which is two in the morning the day before for me. I usually train in the evening cause it’s not so hot, so I could be okay staying up later. You call me at five and we can talk till I sleep. But I don't want you to feel like you have to…”

“I’ll do it” Jackson said, meeting Yien’s eyes. “I’d even send you letters if there was no other way. Pinky promise.”

Jackson looped his little finger around Yien’s, who's eyes had lit up like the Hong Kong skyline, and Jackson felt like he was falling again.

 

 

“Yugyeom I swear-“

“But hyung,” Bambam whined “you don't like me, and it must be because you don't know me, I know you'd like me if you just gave me a chance! I always eat meat with my other hyungs, you guys should hang out together but right now you should buy us meat instead! We’re so cute, you know you want to.”

Jinyoung’s eye had begun to twitch and Yugyeom looked ready to push Bambam out of the way should Jinyoung tackle him in the street. Bambam was latched onto Jinyoung’s waist and Jinyoung was turning purple.

“Control your damn boyfriend Kim Yugyeom!”

“He’s not-“ Yugyeom spluttered

“Is that Mark hyung?” Bambam interrupted, untangling himself from Jinyoung.

The three of them stopped walking and turned to look were Bambam was pointing. Standing in front of a cafe up the street was Mark. And he wasn't alone.

Mark had his back to them, mostly blocking whoever he was with from view. The night was dark, and they were lit up by the city lights surrounding them. Jackson was speaking very quietly to the other person, and even from the back his friends could tell he was smiling. He pulled the other person into a hug, who buried themselves into his neck, obscuring their face. They pulled back and with a final word, turned, and disappeared into the night.

Mark’s friends wasted no time in running full pelt at Mark, who’d been standing staring at the ground. He jumped when Bambam grabbed his neck, turning to face his friends, face pale.

“Who the hell was that?”

“Was that a girl?”

“Of course it wasn't a girl, didn’t you see his shoulders?”

“His skin looked soft though.”

“Is this why you won’t let us set you up with anyone?" 

“Is it someone we know?”

“He only leaves the house for classes, everyone he knows in Korea is standing right here.”

“Who was that Mark?” 

Mark smiled but it never reached his eyes. “Jiaer.”

 


	2. chapter two

Los Angeles never changed. A day in January was no different than a day in July. A Tuesday the same as a Saturday, Halloween no different from Christmas. California didn't care if it was Winter or Summer. California didn't care if it was 1983 or 2027. California didn't care if the sun shone or the rain poured. California didn't care if Mark’s heart was aching. 

It was awfully difficult, being sad when the sun was out. Everyone around him seemed so happy all the time, and Mark was too. He was happy. Just a little tired. And lonely. A little lonely. He was lonely a lot. He had friends sure, but they were all on vacation, or when they were back they just wanted to go clubbing. Mark liked clubbing as much as the next guy, but his friends often got a little rowdy (or a little wild), and Mark had qualifiers coming up. he had no time to go out. That's what he told them.

The television had long since passed into talk shows with dead eyed presenters and too bright colours. It had grown late, a little past midnight maybe. Mark wasn't sure. He felt his eyes growing heavy, and his body thick. He strained himself, trying to stay awake, but was eventually lulled to sleep by the garish sound of late night variety television. 

It was still dark when he woke. The sound of Mark’s laptop ringing was rattling through his head. He fumbled towards it, answering the call before allowing his eyes to focus on the screen. Jiaer.

 

_“Yien, did I wake you?"_

Mark only hummed in reply, forcing his eyes open and focusing on the pixellated image of Jiaer on the screen. He was in a hoodie, hair slightly damp and smile wide. Mark could hear the sounds of Hong Kong through the screen. 

_“I can hang up if you want to sleep-“_

“No. Stay. How was your day?”

_“Sleepy, Coach’s upped the hours after my weeks assessment, but it’s okay. Just means a shorter lunch hour and fewer breaks, I’m doing fine. I tried to blame it on the jetlag but he wasn't having any of it.”_

“Don’t lie to me Wang Jiaer. I can tell you’re tired. Go take a nap or something…”

_“Don’t talk to me about being tired, you look dead on your feet sha gua.”_

“It’s been sort of tough,” Mark said, ignoring the pet name and ducking his head to hide his blush. “I don't know, it’s hard to be back here. Different. It’s stupid, I’ve only been away for a few months.”

_“It’s okay, I understand. It’s hard here too, getting back to normal.”_

They were quiet for a moment, Mark staring intently at the image on his screen before clearing his throat and taking a deep breath.

“I was at the dietician last week. They say I’m underweight.”

Jiaer’s face froze for so long Mark was tempted to check his internet connection. He’d gone pale.

_“They said you’re what? Yien, you should've told me you weren't eating! Don’t give me any bullshit about forgetting, I know you better than that. I'd get on the next flight out to you if Coach wasn't up my ass right now. Why didn't you tell me?”_

“We’ve both been so busy,” Mark said, somewhat sheepishly. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s probably just from overtraining, I’ll just take more protein pills or something.”

 _“Yien, you could never bother me.”_ Jiaer said, his eyes softening. _“I don’t want you to feel you can’t tell me anything just cause we’re training. If you ever need me…”_

“No Jiaer, please don’t worry. I’m fine. How’re your parents?”

Jiaer brightened as he started talking about all the food his mum was cooking and the dumb jokes his dad was telling. Mark zoned out and watched the way Jiaer’s eyes lit up, smiling at the right parts and giving answers when prompted. Jackson eventually ended the call but only when he was sure Mark had eaten and was definitely going to sleep. 

_“Same time tomorrow Yien?”_

“What else would I be doing?” Mark replied, smiling softly at the way Jiaer’s worry lines lessened slightly. 

Mark was again greeted by the feeling of holding his breath once Jiaer had hung up. He stood up somewhat reluctantly, making his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

Mark’s hand shook as he opened the door of his bedroom, standing in the doorway before walking over to the closet. Mark pulled an oversized hoodie from the mess that was his closet. Jiaer often lent his to Mark after tutoring, when Mark was stupid and forgot to bring his own. He never asked for them back, and Mark sure as hell wasn't going to give them to him. He tugged it on and buried his nose in it, breathing in the lingering smell of cologne on the collar.

Mark slept relatively well that night, but with his fingers fisted into the fabric of the hoodie and a frown on his face. 

 

 

Hong Kong was never dark. It was never quiet. Always, the sound of sirens and music and shouting and cars surrounded Jackson in a way that nothing else never did. The fast paced bartering of old men in the markets, the yelling of young men on the phone in the coffee shops of the financial district, the whistle of police officers directing traffic, the high pitched squeal of young girls on the streets. And always, always, the steady rumble of the subway a constant beneath his feet, like a heartbeat pulsing through the city. He’d only been back for three weeks but it felt like he’d never left. 

Jackson was alone in the locker room, sitting on a bench half dressed, hair still dripping from his shower. He’d stayed later than usual. Yien had a doctors appointment tomorrow morning, so couldn't stay up late. One day of not speaking to Yien. that’s all it was. Jackson could deal with it.

He’d stayed extra late for practice, pushing himself to the limit on the treadmill, on the weights, with his sparring practice. Pushed himself to the point where he couldn't think of anything except the strain of his muscles and the throb in his chest. Till he couldn't think of anything else. 

He dressed himself slowly, packing up his things and trudging out of the locker room. It was late, nearing midnight, but of course the city was still awake. Jackson made his way to a coffee shop, still open with businessmen asleep at their tables and students out with friends. Jackson ordered and sat with the cup in front of him, watching the steam swirl upwards and thinking too much.

 

_“So Mr. Psychology major. Analyse me.”_

 

_Yien’s smile had been bright, his eyes crinkling at the sides, like he was glowing so much that it was shining out of himself. Jackson had felt his stomach drop. He swallowed hard._

 

_“Well, I think you’re lonely.”_

 

_Yien’s smile had dimmed slightly, and he’d sat back in his chair. “Really?”_

 

_“I guess. But it’s fine. We’re all a little lonely.”_

 

_“We shouldn't be.”_

 

_“No,” Jackson had said, heartbeat steady. “I guess we shouldn’t.”_

 

 

They never really did much, Jiaer and Yien. They often worked out together, or at least, went to the gym at the same time. Yien did his “freaky stretches”, while Jiaer “went off and stabbed things”. They spotted for each other on the weights, and ran next to each other on the treadmills. Apart from the odd complaint, they never spoke much. But that was okay, being quiet. Going about their routines together suited them. 

They’d often go to cafes and just sit together, talking sometimes but never really feeling any need to constantly fill the silence. Jiaer never said it, but it was something he appreciated. Most people assumed because he was so loud, it was his constant state of being. _That’s Jackson. You’d be more likely to see Bambam in crocs than Jackson sitting still._  And it suited him. Someone had to make people laugh, and Jiaer could be the someone.

But Yien, he never seemed to need to be laughing. Jiaer could yawn and it’d make Yien smile. It was nice, being with Yien. Nice to take a break, from everything that was going on with Jiaer. He didn't have to think about training, about not mixing up his grammar, didn't have to think about being entertaining, or whether or not he’d have to come up with an excuse for eating half his weight in vitamins. Yien understood Jiaer. 

And Yien often worried about being a drag. He wasn't shy, he wasn't timid or anxious or anything that other people liked to label him as. He just never felt like he had anything worthwhile to say. Not that he had low self esteem or anything, he just often felt that he didn't need to share his thoughts. Yien often worried that he was being boring, and would force himself to say something in conversations. But that was what it was. Forced. And people could tell, and then Yien’d get worried that they thought he was weird, so then he wouldn't say anything else, and it repeated itself.

But Jiaer never made Yien feel like he had to say anything. Jiaer was a loud guy, even Yien could tell that, but he was never that loud around Yien. Sure, he talked more than Yien, but they’d often just sit together not saying anything. Yien felt calm around Jiaer, like it was okay to just _be_. 

They’d get coffee, or go for runs around campus at four in the morning. Eat ramyun at eleven at night, or just sit on a bench in a park and let themselves breathe for a goddamn minute without thinking about whether or not they were skipping leg day. They just existed with each other. That was enough.

 

 

Mark hadn't meant for it to get this out of hand. He’d meant to watch one video one day. Just out of curiosity. But there was another in the suggested videos bar. And another. And then there was a playlist. So Mark had watched twenty eight different videos of Jiaer fencing in the past few days. Including shaky videos filmed on flip phones of matches Jiaer played in high school which he _definitely_ shouldn't have been legally allowed to view. So what? He was trying to understand the sport. So they could bond. And stuff. 

Mark had already watched the ones of Jiaer at the Asian Games in Incheon years ago. Mark’d googled the cute fencer from Hong Kong and proceeded to watch all the matches from those few weeks, but had drawn the line at learning Jiaer’s name or watching any other videos. But look how that had turned out. 

 _It’s not called being creepy,_ Mark told himself. _It’s called being a good friend._

Mark had already watched Jackson win bronze at London 2012, now all he had left to watch was him accepting his medal. Mark’d skipped through the final match, not caring about who actually _won_ gold. The victors ceremony began with the medal winners walking out, Jiaer at the back of the line and grinning like a fool.

The problem with fencing was the uniform protected every inch of the body, meaning Mark couldn't see Jiaer’s face. Which he wanted to see just so he could laugh how dumb he looked. And for screenshots. But there was Jiaer now, in all his long haired, grinning glory. Mark felt his stomach clench a little. 

It was odd, seeing Jiaer so young. _Eighteen._ And to think, Mark would've been there too, another time where he and Jiaer, almost, just could’ve met. But Mark had injured his waist a month before qualifiers, so Jiaer would just have to wait. 

Mark’s heart continued to constrict as he watched Jiaer step onto the podium, face positively radiant as he was presented his medal and flowers. The camera closed in on his face, eyes glistening as he drew in a shaky breath and waved to the spectators. He had pulled his bottom lip in with his teeth and had narrowed his eyes. He was trying not to cry. Mark found himself reaching out to touch the screen, but the camera pulled away and Mark found himself feeling like an idiot again.

Mark skipped through the other two medal winners, only feeling slightly guilty. The national anthem of the winners country echoed through Mark’s headphones, pretty and melancholic, in the way national anthems tended to be. Mark focused on Jiaer, who’s eyes were fixed on the flag of Hong Kong being raised in front of him. Despite Mark never having been to Hong Kong, he felt a sense of pride as the flag was raised. Whether it was for Hong Kong or for Jiaer, Mark would never admit. Jiaer seemed to finally give in, allowing himself to draw in another shaky breath, and ducking his head, still smiling as he furiously wiped his glistening eyes. 

Pixelated Jiaer posed with the other medal winners for photographs, and Mark found himself smiling as the eighteen year old held his bronze medal up in victory. The video ended and Mark looked at the time.  _1:58._  

 

 

_“Tuan Yien!”_

“Gaga, why do all fencing arenas look like nightclubs?”

 

 

Sometimes Jackson was envious of Yien. When they said goodbye, and the video call ended, Yien could go to sleep. Despite his protests, Jackson could always tell he was exhausted while they were talking. He still smiled though. Often, Yien fell asleep with the laptop open on his bed, dozing off while listening to Jackson talk about something meaningless. And Jackson couldn't deny that he sometimes deliberately tried to get Yien to fall asleep while still talking to him, just so Jackson could be sure Yien was getting enough sleep. Jackson would watch him sleep a little bit, in a non creepy way, listening to the tinny sound of Yien’s breathing, trying to commit his face to memory. He looked so peaceful when he slept. And Jackson liked seeing his friend calm. Because Jackson was a good friend. That was what friends did. Watched each other sleep.

Then Jackson would hang up, and be left with the rest of the evening and nothing to do. He would often go out for a run in the park near his brother’s apartment, returning late, hopefully tired enough to sleep. His brother lived in Australia but kept the apartment to stay in when visiting. It lay empty a lot of the time, but was close to Jackson’s training centre, so he stayed there over the summer and watered the plants. 

But sometimes Jackson would still be wide awake by the time he got back. He’d take another shower, make himself tea, and lie tossing and turning for hours until he fell into a fitful sleep. This had gone on for weeks, and Coach was starting to notice. Jackson had always been able to function on very little sleep, but he was starting to feel the effects, which was potentially devastating, given that the first lesson in fencing was having quick reflexes. Well, actually, the first lesson was “stick them with the pointy end” but reflexes were important too. Coach had pursed his lips and quietly moved Jackson’s morning training session from eight to ten, and given Jackson a look that said  _get your damn act together._

So Jackson tried. He did. He bought eight different types of organic tea, he made his room pitch dark, he raised the temperature, he lowered the temperature, he lit candles, he even used a damn bath bomb. Nothing worked. So the night after the bath bomb incident, Jackson looked up videos of wind chimes, and waves, and whales, but they just freaked Jackson out. As Jackson was contemplating whether to go for rainforests or tibetan monk chanting, a recommended video caught his heavy eyes. Or rather the thumbnail. It was Yien.

It wasn't that Jackson ever watched videos of Yien. Maybe once or twice. A few times. But there were barely any videos in the first place, and it didn't help that Jackson kept forgetting Yien’s English name. He could've sworn it was Mike. But surely Jackson hadn't watched enough for Youtube to pick up on it. Right? 

 _“It wouldn't hurt,”_ Jackson thought to himself. Just to see what it was. 

Jackson read the title as he waited for the video to load. 

_ “Tuan wins gold for USA at World Gymnastics Championships” _

Jackson felt pride bubbling in his chest, leaning back into his bed, propping his phone up next to him and letting the video play.

The video opened on an eighteen year old Yien standing next to a chirpy looking interviewer. He looked absolutely terrified. Jackson felt his tongue grow heavy in his mouth.

He didn't listen to what was being said, but let himself focus on Yien. He knew he ought to be paying attention to such an important moment in Yien’s life, but he’d have to watch it again tomorrow. Jackson was too focused on Yien. His voice was slightly higher than it was now, face smoother, hair shorter and darker. Jackson wasn't sure if Yien had spoken this much in the whole time he’d known him. The video was around twenty minutes long, and Yien’s voice was steadily intense. The only other person who spoke like that was Jaebum when he was talking about his cat. but Yien was quietly passionate, his English curled around his tongue and came out in a soft drawl. Jackson closed his eyes as he listened to the interview. He was asleep in minutes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to keep the gay lowkey but it's really not working out. ty for reading, lemme know what you think!! (btw sha gua means like a fool or an idiot but in like an affectionate kinda way, like tsundere "baka" vibes)


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything i touch turns to angst

Mark’d spent a lot of time moving about from place to place when he was a kid. It felt like a constant, the moving, each one of his siblings born in a different country. But no matter which country he was in, the actual travelling part was always the same. Kind air hostesses, relatively sucky food, the sound in his ears when the plane took off, hell, every plane even smelled the same. And when you're moving about more than you’d like to be, you took comfort in the constants. Not that Mark moved an insane amount, just enough that he never felt like he had a permanent home. Even though he’d become a US citizen, and that’s where he’d gone to college, he’d never felt that sense of belonging that the people around him seemed to feel.

Mark’s love of flying extended to airports too. The bright open spaces, grumpy security officers, the mix of perfumes as you walked through duty free. Mark loved the crowds, seeing so many different people in the one place, all going to different places. You saw every kind of person in airports. Mark loved checking in, he loved going through security, he loved sitting in cafes and watching all the people going past, he loved sitting at the gate and knowing that there was nothing he had to be doing at that time, that he could just sit and breathe and think. 

But Mark didn't have time to think right now. The flight back to Seoul was over twelve hours long, which meant twelve hours on the plane trying, and failing, to sleep and watching movies he would never dream of watching if he wasn't hurtling through the air in a pressurised tin can at six hundred miles an hour. Mark often ended up thinking too much on planes, so he had thought maybe he ought to talk to Jiaer now, just so he wouldn't be worrying about him when he couldn't contact him. 

Mark was sitting at his gate, his earbuds in and phone clutched in his hands. Mark was still too nervous to call Jiaer himself, despite how close they’d gotten, though Jiaer never seemed to mind. Mark’s flight was boarding in around an hour, but knowing the two of them they’d easily lose track of time. Jiaer’s flight wouldn't board for another five hours, and again, Mark felt bad for always being the one who had to leave. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone buzzing to life in his hands.  

 _“Yien!”_  Jiaer’s blurry face appeared on Mark’s phone. It was odd, seeing him so small, Mark so used to seeing him on his laptop screen. Mark felt weird, holding Jiaer in his hands like this. _“Not long now! Have you eaten?”_

“I’ll eat on the plane Jiaer, don’t worry. How’ve you been?” Any other time Mark would've been self conscious, surrounded by people and speaking to his phone in Mandarin, but with Jiaer, Mark never really thought about other people.

_“Since we last spoke? Fine, I think I’ve been sleeping a lot better so I feel good. Did I tell you about the guy I saw on the subway?"_

 

 

Jackson could never sleep on the plane. He would read, or play games on his phone till it died, or just stare into space, which was what he was doing right now. The old man in the seat next to him was staring at him oddly and Jackson, never one to shy away from confrontation, turned to look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked in Cantonese.

“I’m fine son, sorry to bother you. You just seem worried.” The man replied. “Forgive me for asking, but are you okay? Is everything alright? You've been frowning since you sat down.”

“I’m fine I guess,” Jackson was vaguely taken aback by the mans sudden questions. Things like this only happened in movies, old men randomly giving you life advice right when you needed it. But Jackson didn't need any advice. right? “I’m a little stressed out but nothing really.”

The old man looked at him as though he wished for Jackson to carry on.

“I’m a fencer on the Olympic team, so I guess I’m worried about that.”

“That must be hard on someone so young, a lot of pressure. But surely if it's your passion it would not weigh on your mind so much? Is all well with your family, friends, relationships…?”

“All fine,” Jackson replied, still vaguely uncomfortable. “My family, my friends, my relationships…”

The old man looked at Jackson in such a way that made Jackson feel like couldn't hide anything from him, and he felt his resolve breaking. “I have a friend. A close friend. And I’m a social person, I have lots of friends, too many even. But this one friend, my other friends don't know them, and I don't want them to. Is that bad? To want to keep them for myself?”

“Of course not. There are some things we need to keep in a different place from where we keep the rest of our lives. Have you thought about what makes this person feel different than the rest?”

Jackson couldn't think of an answer, but by the time he turned to tell the old man this, he was asleep, leaving Jackson alone with his thoughts, and again with the tightening in his chest.

 

 

It was late when Mark landed in Seoul. He deliberately hadn't slept on the plane, so he would be able to sleep once he arrived back at the dorms and he could get over his jet lag relatively easily. He’d assured Yugyeom and Jinyoung he wouldn't need a lift from the airport and that he’d be fine getting the train by himself, despite their protests. He didn't have much luggage with him and the airport was too out of the way from the university, so they needn't bother. 

So Mark wandered out of the arrivals gate absentmindedly, already readjusting himself to the Korean around him. He was dead on his feet and vaguely delirious, so he wasn't far off for assuming he was hallucinating when he saw a familiar figure leaning against a pillar in the arrivals hall. Hair still tousled, eyes still tired, still with bruises all over his arms but smile still the same. Jiaer.

His eyes lit up when he saw Mark, and Mark didn't even think as he stood, frozen, staring at Jiaer as he made his way over, half running, before wrapping his arms tight around him and burying his face in Mark’s neck. Mark let all other thoughts disappear as he concentrated on the feel of being back in Jiaer’s arms and being able to breathe a little easier.

Jiaer eventually realised he was probably hurting Mark as he let go, wrapping his arms round his waist and pressing his forehead against Mark’s. He couldn't help but smile and Mark’s cheek muscles hurt from disuse. 

“You look like shit Yien,” Jiaer finally said.

“Ever the charmer Jiaer.”

He only smiled, pressing a loud kiss to Mark’s cheek, before pulling his arms away and flinging one around Mark’s shoulders. 

“Why’d you come, I’d have managed fine…”

“It’s nothing, I was tired when we landed so I got something to eat, and I didn't really feel like making the journey alone, and by that time your flight was coming in in an hour so I thought I might as well wait for you. Plus you look like you’re going to keel over any minute, so you should be grateful.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mark replied, but his smile was splitting his cheeks and he felt warm all over. “C’mon, let’s go get the train, I wanna sleep.”

“As you wish,” Jiaer said, heading over to get his bag and coming back with a cup of coffee. “Two sugars right? I thought you’d be tired.”

Mark could've cried.

 

 

“So did you meet anyone over the summer?”

Jaebum was beginning to feel less like Jackson’s roommate and more like his mother. They were wandering through the aisles of the convenience store down the street from their apartment getting groceries, since Jaebum had only just got back from his parents house and Jackson had been eating nothing but protein bars for the past two days. He’d only been back with Jackson for an hour before he started talking about Jackson’s love life.

“No Jaebum, I was busy training. Why do we always talk about me anyway, what about you?”

“A couple hookups here and there but no one worth mentioning, I’m not looking for a relationship right now anyway.” Jaebum said as he meandered through the store. “and because I worry about you Jackson. It’s now or never for you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic hyung.” Jackson said, following idly. “And don’t act as if you’re so cool, not liking anyone. You know that coffee shop we always visit, the cute barista that’s there sometimes? I was thinking about asking for his number-“

“Don’t you dare,” Jaebum said as he stood frozen, clutching two packets of ramen in midair. “Don’t you even fucking think about it you little-”

“Aish, I’m joking hyung” Jackson replied, slapping Jaebum on the back, who was still seething. “He’s not my type. Do we need milk?”

“What do you mean he’s not your type? He’s gorgeous, he’s everyones type.” Jaebum said as Jackson walked off down the aisle. “This isn't over Jackson!”

 

 

Park Jinyoung was as classy as ever, and Mark found himself feeling more and more like a slob with each day he was friends with the guy. Jinyoung’s loafers were polished so much Mark could see the fluorescent lights of the diner reflected in them, further emphasising how out of place Jinyoung was in the grimy little place. His shirt was perfectly creased, his hair was slicked back, but he at least wasn't wearing the permanent look of disgust he seemed to carry with him wherever he went. He was stirring his iced macchiato with only mild distaste.

“How was the flight?” Jinyoung asked, only mildly interested and his Mandarin again without a trace of a foreign accent. 

“Fine. Long.” Mark replied, stifling a yawn. He’d spent most of his day unpacking and sorting out admin for the new term, and had only managed to drag himself off his couch to meet Jinyoung when it was far too near midnight for him to justify having coffee with four sugars. The sun was beginning to set over the campus, but it was late, summer nights setting the sky alight for hours. “What did you really want to talk about Jinyoung?”

“Can’t I see my friend without being accused of an ulterior motive?” Jinyoung huffed, switching back into Korean. Mark stared at him until Jinyoung slouched and dropped his offended persona. “Yugyeom sent me.”

“What is it now?” Mark said, leaning back in the booth and rolling his eyes. Of course, Jinyoung would be doing what yugyeom asked. He acted like he hated him, but Mark know things were a little more complicated than that.

“Given that his _little friend_ isn't back from Thailand till tomorrow, and Youngjae only came back from Mokpo this morning, we spent a lot of time together these past few days, which I don't want to talk about, but in exchange for him respecting me, which he rightfully should as _I am hyung,_  I had to speak to you about a certain matter.”

“And what would that be?” Mark asked, leaning forward and resting his cheek in his palm.

“Your love life.” Jinyoung sighed and Mark felt his stomach grow heavy. “Yugyeom’s _friend_ is insisting on setting you up with someone, and frankly Youngjae and I agree. We’ve been trying to get you out there ever since you arrived here and if Gyeom thinks he’s found someone for you, I’m inclined to help him out.”

“Jinyoungie, I don't want to be set up with anyone,” Mark replied, running a hand through his hair, “For one thing, there’s no point in me meeting anyone here when I’m leaving in a few months anyway. Plus, how do you know I’m not interested in anyone? And I’m too busy to date anyway.”

“You always say that Mark!’ Jinyoung said, growing exasperated. “But what are you even doing? All you do is work out, and I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Why are you so serious with all your training, you don't go a day without going to the gym, and when you’re not studying or tutoring you’re in some crazy work out session! I know you’re on a sports scholarship, but you don't even play any sports so it’s not that important for you is it? Aish, you American’s are all the same, so intense.”

“It’s not that.” Mark said quietly. Frankly, he was surprised Jinyoung was so dense. For someone so smart, he was ridiculously unperceptive. “It’s not just working out, it’s training.”

“Training my ass,” Jinyoung scoffed, “you don't play on any teams or anything, just chill out why don't you? It’s not like you’re going to the Olympics or anything.”

Mark was silent for too long for even Jinyoung not to pick up on anything.

“You’re not going to the Olympics are you?”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Mark said, uncomfortable with the face Jinyoung was making at him. “You never asked! It didn't seem important.” Mark said, defending himself before he’d been attacked.

“That’s a pretty big thing Mark!” Jinyoung said as he waved a waitress over for the bill. “I thought you’d have told us something like that! What sport do you even play, you’re not on any of the teams here, and no offence hyung, but you’re not really good at anything but maths, backflips, and sleeping.”

“You’re right about that,” Mark said as they left the cafe. “but I’m really good at all of those things.”

“What are you then? A diver? Boxer? You’re not a fencer are you?”

“No, I’m not a fencer Jinyoungie.” Mark said, smiling at the thought. “I’m a gymnast.”

“Yeah right Mark,” Jinyoung said, smiling as they turned in to walk across the campus lawn. “You’re too tall! Aren't all the gymnasts tiny? They look like munchkins.”

“You don't believe me?” Mark said, vaguely offended. “I’m hurt!”

“Prove it you punk,” Jinyoung said, jerking his chin as he spoke, looking for all intents and purposes like the leading antagonist in the trashy dramas Youngjae liked to watch. But Mark could still make out the spark of interest in Jinyoung’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth were twitching like they did when he was trying not to smile.

Mark smiled and took off his jacket, throwing it to the ground next to Jinyoung. He took his shoes off and kicked them over too, and Jinyoung made a face when they hit him in the ankles. He still seemed expectant though, arms folded and lips pursed.

Mark took a deep breath as he let himself focus. He felt he had most of his routine for qualifiers down, but honestly, Jinyoung wouldn't know if Mark cut off some of the harder parts of his routine. Mark checked there were no students in his path as he stretched his arms above his head and prepared to start.

Everything went quiet as Mark raised his arms above his head, only feeling slightly embarrassed about doing this in public in his tank top and skinny jeans. He ran into his cartwheel, pushing himself off the grass and flipping back through the air. The world was slow around him, and his mind eased as he moved into a twist, spinning three times before rolling into his landing, feet steady on the grass. Mark was preparing to move into another portion of his routine when he heard clapping from behind him. 

Jinyoung was standing with his mouth hanging open, and was still clapping as Mark made his way back over to him. A few people had stopped and were staring at Mark as he walked past, but all in all, no one seemed to give him the time of day, which Mark was grateful for, as his cheeks were flushed pink from both exertion and embarrassment. 

“So do you believe me now, Park Jinyoung?” Mark asked, grinning as he pulled his jacket back on.

“I can’t wait to tell Yugyeom.” Jinyoung replied, and all Mark could do was laugh. 

 

 

Yien looked like he was made of marble as they sat on a bench in a forgotten corner of the campus to catch their breath. Jackson was sure he looked a state, drenched in sweat and hair a mess, but Yien didn't even look tired, breathing maybe a little bit heavier but still perfectly fine. They’d ran in silence for the most part, the air heavy but not awkward between them as they sat.

It was late, and everything was bathed in that powdery golden light that hangs around for a while as the sun goes down. There was a bite in the air and the leaves on the trees around them were edging golden, reminding the two of them that summer was on its last breath. Classes had started a few weeks ago, but they’d only just managed to see each other now, with the both of them working their asses off to try and graduate early, and Yien spending every other free minute training. Jackson found himself feeling strange, not seeing Yien after basing his entire day around him for the past few months. Yien was staring off somewhere, lips slightly parted as he evened out his breathing. Jackson felt like he was barely there, his throat closed up and everything in him felt tight, down to his fingertips, everything in him aching to reach out and touch him. But Jackson forced himself to stare off at some fixed point in the distance, keeping himself from looking at Yien. 

Jackson often found himself trying not to look at Yien, as if he were the sun and he were afraid of being blinded. But no matter who Jackson tried, he saw him, like the sun, even without looking. Never in his life did Jackson ever think he would find himself comparing someone to the sun. But even the sun didn't seem quite right for Yien, Yien was the sun and the stars and the moon and the whole galaxy. Six months ago he barely could've told you how tall Yien was, now Jackson could've traced his silhouette from memory. Jackson could only try and calm down his racing mind, try to stop himself thinking this way.

Who was Jackson, to have these thoughts? What place was he in, to allow himself to think such things, about his friend no less. Yien had important things to do, he had his own friends, his own goals, his own life. Jackson was just a small part of Yien’s life, no matter how much Jackson tried to convince himself otherwise. Jackson’s mind raced as he tried to deal with all the thoughts that were coming to the surface in his mind.

“Are you okay?” Yien asked, breaking Jackson’s turbulent train of thought. “You disappeared for a minute there.”

“Yeah I’m fine.” Jackson said, his voice showing no trace of what he was thinking. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Yien said, voice laced with anxiety. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be training more, and I might not see you for a while, what with qualifiers coming up. They’re in October, in Glasgow, so don’t worry if I’m not around much okay?”

“I never worry about you Yien,” Jackson said with a grin, pretending not to notice the way Yien’s face fell slightly. “and can you do any more training than you are now? Work hard and stay healthy and all that.” 

“I’ve gotta go now,” Yien said, smile strained, “I have a video call with coach tomorrow morning, I should get to bed early.”

Jackson smiled as he stood up, keeping himself composed as he looked at Yien.

“We’ll catch up soon yeah? Before you go?” Jackson asked, quickly, trying his hardest not to sound pathetic, and Yien nodded, pulling Jackson into a one armed hug. Jackson resisted the urge to wrap his arms around him, and pulled back suddenly. Something flashed across Yien’s face but it was gone before Jackson could try to place it. With one last smile, Yien turned and walked off down the path, his head ducked down and Jackson found himself staring as he watched him go. 

Jackson sat back down, if only to put some more distance between himself and Yien, to let himself come to his senses a little bit. What was wrong with him? Something had changed between June and now, something Jackson wasn't sure he could think about. It was probably just shock, Jackson trying to get used to having Yien physically in front of him, rather than on a computer screen. It’d go away as Jackson grew used to being back around Yien, and everything would return to normal.

 _“But you don't feel like this around Jaebum, or Bambam, or anyone else, and you’ve been back for almost a month.”_ said a small voice in the back of Jackson’s head, but Jackson drowned that voice in other thoughts.

Jackson stood up, far too suddenly, screwing his eyes shut until his teeth clenched, and opening them wide, letting himself adjust to the darkening light. He turned and walked off in the other direction to which Yien had left. 

He started to walk, then quickened into a jog, until he was running, running until his lungs screamed, his legs ached, till his eyes became blurry. He ran and ran, until he had to stop, with no idea where he’d ended up, doubled over with his hands braced on his thighs. His head was spinning and his vision was dark, mouth dry and ears ringing, and all he should've been able to think about was his body’s desperate need for attention.

But all he could think about was Yien's fucking face, so Jackson headed back to his apartment to get drunk in his living room till he passed out on the floor and Jaebum found him in the morning and again let himself grow ill with worry over his friend who’d not been himself for the longest time.

 


	4. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if this gets too technical, i'm just a gymnastics freak i'm s o r r y

Mark slept in the taxi from the airport. He’d flown from Seoul to London, then met up with the rest of the team for the flight up to Glasgow. Despite how tired he was, Mark couldn't help feeling nostalgic, being reunited with his teammates. He’d grown up with so many of them, and seeing the girls growing into young women had him missing his nieces, and wondering just how much he was missing out on. The rest of the guys were happy to see him, and Mark felt just a little bit less anxious, being with the rest of them. They arrived at their hotel late that night, and Mark felt bad for the girls, who had their qualifiers the next day. After sending a text to his friends to let them know he’d gotten to the hotel okay, he fell into a deep sleep.

Mark woke up relatively late, sometime after ten. He felt fine though, and was glad he’d grown so used to getting over jet lag. He headed down to breakfast and met up with the rest of his teammates, before heading over to the venue to check out the layout.

It was a big round building, lit up blue and green around the outside, and Mark felt the familiar tingle down his spine from walking into an arena. They cheered as they watched their girls, and hung about the venue, trying, and failing, to subtly check out the competition.

Mark found himself growing tired, and headed back to the hotel alone, letting himself think. The air was bitterly cold, and the night was growing dark, despite it only being just after four. The hotel was barely a five minute walk away, but Mark was grateful for the warmth as he went back indoors. There were a few other gymnasts hanging about, and Mark saw the Brazilian coach checking in the team. He smiled at them as he walked past, recognising some of them from various competitions. That was one thing Mark loved about gymnastics, the sense of camaraderie between gymnasts, no matter the country. Mark’d say he had friends among those qualifying here, something he didn't think could be said of a lot of sports.

Mark headed down to the hotel’s fitness centre, going through some stretches before running on the treadmill for half an hour. He showered, before going back up to his room and collapsing on his bed, taking off his tracksuit before lying back in his sweatpants, his laptop on his lap.

Mark could still barely bring himself to text Jiaer first, let alone call him, but he found himself growing close to initiating the call, purely because he was so anxious to speak to Jiaer. He was hovering over his keyboard when the familiar ringing sound came out from his speakers. Jiaer had beaten him to it. Mark hit the answer button a little quicker than he’d like to admit, and he felt his heart stutter as the image focused on his screen.

 

_“Tuan Yien!”_

Jiaer was smiling on Mark’s screen, sitting in his bed with his eyes droopy. His face was slightly stubbly, and Mark smiled unknowingly at the image.

“Hey sleepyhead. Now do you know how it feels to be up late for video calls?”

 _“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,”_ Jiaer said, pouting. _“but was it worth it?”_

“Definitely.” Mark said. He thought he liked Jiaer best when he was like this. It wasn’t like he didn't like him the rest of the time, but there was something about him right now, when he was half asleep, punctuating sentences with yawns, smiling softly and just watching Mark with hooded eyes. 

_“How’s Glasgow?”_

 

Mark slept well that night. He woke up early, going for a jog along the river the hotel was on. He was by no means the only jogger there, but it was calm, the air sharp in his lungs and the cold biting his ears. It reminded him of Seoul. 

He arrived at breakfast after showering, sitting down next to his teammates with a cup of coffee and a completely filled plate, taking advantage of the buffet. They all ate, making small talk until Mark tried to convince their Coach to give him his last slice of toast, pouting involuntarily.

“Don’t pout at me!” Mark’s Coach said, the rest of his teammates looking on in amusement. “You’ve been doing that the whole time we’ve been here! You’ve changed Tuan, but you’re still not getting my toast.”

“I've not changed, you’ve just gotten meaner.” Mark said, laughing.

“That’s not true!” one of his teammates piped up. “You’re definitely different Mark. For one thing, you can barely hold a fork anymore, and you called my iPhone a _handphone.”_

“We noticed in the summer too,” Coach continued. “you talk more, and you laugh more. A lot more. It’s not bad or anything, just strange.”

“I’m offended,” Mark said, smiling but letting himself think this over. He’d thought Seoul hadn't changed him, but he supposed not. 

 

Mark was lying in his bed, putting off going to sleep by idly scrolling through his phone. He’d been texting Youngjae and Yugyeom back and forth, but Jinyoung had refused to speak to him, mad that he’d gotten time off from school to be a _professional backflipper._ Jinyoung had, however, had a moment of weakness and sent him a video of Youngjae fitting a whole muffin in his mouth, and a few pictures of cats. 

He’d told Jiaer not to call him that night or the next, so he could sleep early to be rested for the qualifiers. Jiaer had agreed, but not before making Mark promise that he’d get a triple length call after that. 

But Mark found himself tossing and turning, his mind too active for him to slip into sleep. He didn't understand it, he’d been going over his routine all day until he felt like he could do it in his sleep, or he could, if he actually managed to get to sleep in the first place. He should be exhausted, he could feel he was tired, but Mark’s brain didn't seem to agree. 

He was torn however. There was one thing that would probably help himself get to sleep, but he’d made a deal with himself that he wouldn't do it. It was creepy, it was weird, and it was definitely not something that should make him fall asleep. But tomorrow was maybe one of the most important days of Mark’s life. Surely it’d be justified, just tonight.

His resolve broken, Mark scrolled back through his phone’s camera roll, before coming to a twenty five minute video. Mark set it to play, plugging in his charger, setting his phone down, and laying back in his bed. 

A few weeks ago one of guys Jiaer tutored had asked if he could get a recording of Jiaer speaking Cantonese so he could get used to the sound of it. It wasn't the weirdest request Jiaer had gotten whilst tutoring, but it was up there. Of course, Jiaer had forgotten to charge his phone, so Mark had lent him his phone, what with Mark being a super good friend.

So Mark had sent the guy a video of Jiaer talking about fencing and Hong Kong for half an hour, not that Mark understood much, and he guessed Jiaer assumed he deleted the video, but Mark being a sentimental little shit, he’d kept it. And watched it. Sometimes. Occasionally. When he was bored. 

Mark was asleep before Jiaer had started talking about the importance of organic tea.

 

Most of Mark’s day was spent sitting about waiting for his turn. He was in the afternoon slot, so he spent most of the morning warming up, and training. He’d already gotten a feel for the competition at the team qualifiers the day before.

They’d done well, Team USA. Not as well as some of them had thought, but they’d gotten to the final round, so Mark was pleased. He’d scored exceptionally high in his division, which he was pleased about, but now, he felt even more pressured to do well in the team finals.

He sat watching the other gymnasts with his heart in his mouth. Sure, he’d seen them about the place at events, and he really shouldn't be star stuck, but seeing some of the legends he’d idolised since he was a kid had him more nervous than he already was. Mark tried to reassure himself as his routine approached, and he found himself thinking of his friends.

They’d sent encouragement messages that morning, and Youngjae had sent a video of his dog which carried the same sentiment. Jiaer hadn't said anything, but Mark had told him not to, and if he did, Mark thought he might get more worked up than he had been all day.

Soon, they were moving around the arena, to the floor area. Mark did his stretches, his mind blank, letting his coach take his jacket off for him as Mark was afraid his hands were shaking. He bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to steady himself. He took deep breaths, and made himself think of things that calmed him down. The beach near his house in California, late nights in his auntie’s garden in Taiwan, walking along the Han River with his friends, his friends laughing while Yugyeom fell over, Jiaer making faces at Mark, Jiaer laughing at Mark, Jiaer sitting with his eyes narrowed as he studied, Jiaer looking up from his textbook and smiling at Mark, getting coffee with Jiaer, late night walks with Jiaer, being with Jiaer. 

Mark didn't even try to stop these thoughts, knowing he’d worry about it enough later, and he needed to be worry free at this moment more than ever. 

His name was called and Mark stepped onto the platform, standing at the corner of the mat and waiting for the call to start. He evened out his breathing and let the crowd, the lights, the commentators voice, let it all fall away. He raised his arms above his head, took a deep breath, and began.

 

**mark**

**to youngjae, yugyeom, jinyoung at 18:49PM**

_i made it_

 

Mark was standing looking out of his window at the city below him. Glasgow was an odd place. Mark could see the river out to the left, and to the right, the huge arena was lit up in coloured lights, standing out against the other buildings along the river. Aside from the odd modern metallic structure, they were all built from stone, something Mark wasn't used to, used to seeing buildings made of metal and glass. It had rained every day since they’d been here, but Mark didn't mind it so much. 

His room was quite high up, and he had a good view, something his teammates were jealous of, but this was probably the last time Mark would get a room to himself for an event so Mark appreciated it while he could.

Mark had been thinking about the Olympics a lot lately, or more, what the experience would be like. He’d heard rumours about the village, and how it was basically an opportunity for athletes to hook up, no strings attached. Jiaer had confirmed these rumours, and said the London village had felt more like a brothel at times than a home for the worlds top athletes. He’d not done anything, he’d assured Mark, but the rest of his teammates certainly had.

He couldn't help thinking about how he would see Jiaer at Rio. Mark hadn't really thought about how he’d keep up with Jiaer after he left Seoul. Jiaer was taking that semester off anyway, so it wasn't like one of them would still be at college and the other would be training. Mark had just thought about getting to Rio and that he’d see Jiaer there, but what about when they were over? Of course, Mark was worrying about how he’d keep up with the rest of his friends too. It was just, thinking about them didn’t seem to make him feel as sick as he did when he thought about not seeing Jiaer.

His laptop started ringing and Mark closed the curtains, flopping onto his bed and accepting the call. Jiaer’s blurry face appeared on the screen. He was wearing a baggy black sweater and looked as though he’d just woken up. He rubbed his eyes and smiled at mark, and Mark felt his stomach fall a little. 

 

 _“Yien, how'd you do?”_ Jiaer said, pouting. _“I was gonna text you but I fell asleep.”_

“We made it.” Mark said, smiling. Jiaer’s face lit up and he raised his hands to his face.

_“Really? I mean, I knew you would, but really?”_

Mark laughed, and felt himself get a little bit lighter as he watched Jiaer fiddle with a loose string on his sweater.

_“Have you eaten?”_

 

 

Jackson didn't miss Yien. He didn’t. For Christ’s sake, the boy had only been away for a week and Jackson found himself aching at the thought of him. He’d go to text Yien, and then remember that he’d still be asleep cause of the time difference. He’d want to go get coffee, and would think of asking Yien, and then he’d remember he couldn't cause he wasn't there. At times, Jackson felt stupid. It wasn't as if Yien had died or anything, and Jackson had other friends, so why was he acting like this? Besides, Jackson would have to get used to it. He’d survived a summer away from Yien, he could survive two weeks. And soon enough, he’d have to survive seven months without seeing him, cause come December it was winter break, then they had two weeks together in February and then he’d go back to Hong Kong, Yien would go back to California, and then they’d meet again in Rio. But even then, they’d barely see each other, and what then? What after that? 

Jackson found himself spacing out during his lecture, not paying any attention whatsoever to what the professor was saying. His mind was elsewhere. Maths had never been Jackson’s strongpoint, but if was early evening in Korea, it must be morning where Yien was. He’d probably have woken up by now, eaten his breakfast, and be practicing his routine right this second. And here Jackson was, sitting in a lecture hall on the other side of the world, and with Yien so far away. It wasn't as though Jackson had some huge feeling that someone had broken his ribs and ripped his heart out from his chest or anything like that. Just a small feeling of unease, that got worse and got better but never seemed to go away.

He was broken out of his daze by his classmates all standing and packing up. The class had finished and Jackson hadn't noticed. Great. He’d have to beg to borrow some notes off of someone, but right now, Jackson had to go tutor three poor souls in Chinese, while Yien was a thousand miles away. 

 

It started to rain as Jackson walked back from the library. It was light, barely noticeable as the cold bit at Jackson’s skin. In Hong Kong, it rained as though the sky had split open, pouring out boiling hot liquid and steaming the streets, the kind of rain that made you afraid to go outside in case you were pummelled into the ground from the sheer force of it. He missed it more and more every day.

He pushed open the door to their apartment block and hurried up the stairs, unlocking his door and kicking off his shoes, padding into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Jaebum was out, and probably wouldn't be back till late, Jackson never knew where. probably studying in some coffee shop and being a nerd. 

Jackson watched the kettle boil, mind blank, going through the motions without thinking about them. It was nearing midnight, he’d run late with the tutoring and he’d found himself walking slowly back to his apartment, despite the dismal weather.

He’d found a way to stream the gymnastics, and the team finals started at half one in the morning, Korean time. Jackson didn't have any classes tomorrow, just training in the evening, and although he had final exams soon, he didn't think it would make too much difference if he stayed up late this one time (despite the fact he'd barely been sleeping no matter how early he went to bed). Besides, he’d be studying through most of the stream, paying attention only when he saw Yien. Jackson settled down in his bedroom to study, and to wait.

 

Jackson had been watching for an hour and a half now, and the most he’d seen of Yien was the teams introduction, and a few shots of his elbow while they filmed other gymnasts. It was nearing three in the morning, and the commentators were calling for a rotation. Jackson put down his textbook and picked up his cup of coffee, pulling his laptop into his lap and watching the blurry video show the American team moving around the arena to their next stage. Floor. Yien.

They showed one of the Japanese team members routine on the vault, and Jackson watched, half paying attention. He scored high, as expected, as did the British guy who followed on the rings. The Czech competitor fell off the bar, and Jackson winced as he limped off the platform. And then it was Yien’s turn.

 _“And now, Mark Tuan, for the United States,”_ the commentator said in English, accent throwing Jackson off slightly. _“born in Taiwan, often competes for them due to his dual citizenship, but was chosen for Team USA this year. Wonderful form, this is his first Olympic qualifiers due to an injury in 2012, but we’re expecting good things from him today.”_

Jackson felt his breathing deepen as Yien stepped up to the corner of the mat. He was gnawing on his lip, eyes wide. He was nervous. But Jackson watched as Yien breathed in, exhaling hard, raising his arms above his head and starting his routine. 

Jackson watched, his breath held, as Yien jumped and flipped through the air, landing steady. He stood up straight, eyes focused. He didn't look so nervous now, more determined, and Jackson prayed the the video wouldn't buffer as Yien moved into another portion of his routine. He moved through the air so gracefully, before landing and beginning to spin, held up by his hands, arm muscles straining. Jackson had been trying to focus on the routine, on the sport, but he found himself unable to tear away from watching Yien’s arm muscles, his chest ripped against his leotard, the skin tight uniforms not leaving much to the imagination. Yien rolled forward, and Jackson knew he was nearing the end of his routine. He went into a final flip, twisting back and then through the air, before landing to the applause of the audience, and Jackson let out a breath, shoulders heaving as he let himself relax, knowing Yien had done well.

Yien had stepped off the platform, hugging his Coach and teammates, before shaking hands with other competitors, and Jackson wished he could be there to congratulate him, to hug him, to share this moment with him. The camera focused on Yien as they waited for his score to be announced and he smiled, waving at the camera, and Jackson almost found himself waving back, before stopping himself.

 _“Tuan really has the capacity to score high with this one,”_ the commentator said. _“he’s done exceptionally well, and at this point, we have to denounce the idea that the American team will make it to the podium, but with Tuan’s performance they really have a chance to make it to fourth, and we can expect good things from him in the individual apparatus finals on Sunday. And the judges have announced it, yes the highest we’ve seen in floor today! Tuan has really saved the day for America, look at the poor boy, he’s crying.”_

The score came up on Jackson’s laptop screen, 16.12. Jackson let out a yell, jumping up and punching the air, almost spilling his coffee. He sat back down, watching as the camera filmed Yien, his head buried in his hands, his Coach pulling him up and patting him on the back, and Yien gave the camera a watery smile and made a heart with his hands, before being attacked in a hug by someone from the Chinese team. Jackson was settling back into watching before footsteps hammered towards his room.

Jaebum burst into Jackson’s room, hair mussed up, pyjama clad and bleary eyed. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled, voice thick with sleep. “I thought you’d died.”

“No,” Jackson said, stifling a laugh. “just Yien.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Jackson.” Jaebum said, rolling his eyes and turning out into the hallway. “I don't even want to know.”

 

Jackson blearily made his way back from the convenience store on Sunday night. He’d woken up early in the afternoon, and studied, before going to the gym and then heading out to the library to meet someone for late night tutoring. He’d promised Jaebum he’d stop by the convenience store, as payment for waking him up so late the other night. He’d stocked up on canned coffee and ramyun, all your typical university student staples, before trudging back to the apartment. 

Again it was late, and Jaebum was passed out on the couch, his textbook open on his chest. Jackson took it off him, placing it on the coffee table before chucking a blanket over him. Jaebum mumbled something in his sleep that Jackson didn't even try to decipher, but he didn't stir. Jackson wandered into the kitchen to make himself ramen, before rushing into his bedroom and turning on his laptop. 

It had been four days since the team finals. He’d called Yien the next night and they’d talked about the team, and Yien was embarrassed that Jackson had watched them, and begged him not to watch his floor finals, that he’d be too anxious knowing Jackson was watching for him to deal with it. Jackson had acted offended, but felt a little fuzzy inside, knowing that he made Yien nervous. He didn't know why. 

So Jackson had no idea how Yien had done. He easily could’ve watched them, and Yien would never know, but Jackson felt guilty even thinking about doing that. He’d purposely made sure his schedule was full, so he wouldn't be tempted, but now he felt even more jittery as he waited for the time he could call Yien.

He still had almost an hour to wait, and Jackson couldn't bring himself to focus on his studying, his mind too busy, hands almost shaking as he tried to concentrate. Jackson put on some trashy variety show with celebrities no one cared about, and let himself be lulled into boredom until his alarm went off to call Yien.

Immediately his attention was back, turning off the TV and scrambling over to his laptop, opening up Skype and ringing Yien. It rang twice before Yien picked up, and Jackson’s heart raced as the call connected, before opening on Yien’s face.

 

He was in his bed in his hotel room, his shirt off and collarbones visible at the bottom of the screen. His hair was damp and sticking up every which way, and his eyes were sad. 

“Yien! I’ve been waiting, what happened?” Jackson said, fearing the worst as Yien’s face fell, already thinking of a way to comfort him.

_“Well, I thought I did alright, but I didn't do alright.…” Yien said, trailing off, bottom lip sticking out, eyes downcast. _“I did amazing. I won silver.”__

__

Immediately, Yien started smiling, laughing as Jackson’s expression went from one of sympathy to one of shock, and Jackson let out a shout, squealing as he clutched his laptop, laughing as Yien laughed too, open mouthed and eyes bright.

__

“Yah, Jackson Wang! Shut up!” Jaebum called from down the hall, not even bothering to come check on Jackson. Yien laughed even harder at that. 

__

“I can’t believe you’d play me like that! I was so worried for you!” Jackson said, eyes watery.

__

_“So you really believed I’d not done well?”_ Yien asked, pout returning. _“Do you think I'm that bad?”_

__

“No Yien, I’d never think that,” Jackson protested, before realising Yien was laughing again. “Tuan Yien! Stop doing that!”

__

_“Sorry, sorry. I'm just excited,”_ Yien said, eyes smiling. _“The team are so happy, but I feel kinda bad, for doing so well.”_

__

“Don’t feel bad.” Jackson said, rubbing his eyes. “You did so well, I’m so proud of you.”

__

_“Wang Jiaer, are you crying?”_  Yien asked, grinning, despite Jackson’s protests. _“You softie. Coach cried too, the team are proud but we’ve got an early flight tomorrow down to London so I don't even get to have fun.”_

__

“Is this not fun?” Jackson asked, clutching his chest in mock horror. “I'm wonderful Yien.”

__

_“Yeah, you are.”_ Yien said with a small smile. _“I miss you.”_

__

“I miss you too,” Jackson said, joking mood gone. “but you’re back soon! But I have exams, so I don't know when I’ll be able to see you.”

__

_“We’ll figure it out,”_ Yien said, yawning slightly. _“we don’t have much time left together anyway, a few more months at most.”_

__

“Don’t say that.” Jackson said, voice harder than it usually was. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay, we’ll be together soon.”

__

_“Yeah,”_  Yien said, giving Jackson a sleepy smile. _“how was your day?”_

__

 

__

Mark was met at the train station at six in the morning by a welcoming committee of Jinyoung, Yugyeom, Youngjae, and Youngjae’s dog. Mark was too tired to make a big deal out of it, just smiled, hugged his committee, and made Yugyeom carry his suitcase as he let Jinyoung lead him out the station and back to his apartment to sleep. 

__

He promised he’d treat them all to food the next day as Jinyoung and Yugyeom headed to class and Youngjae went to his shift at their local coffee shop. Mark peeled off his jeans and collapsed into his bed, not even stopping to get anything out of his bag, curling up in his duvet, exhausted.

__

When he woke up it was dark outside. Mark fumbled for his phone on his bedside table, eyes scrunching from the brightness. He had an obscene amount of notifications but he ignored them all, opening his text messages and going straight to one contact.

__

 

__

**mark**

__

**to jiaer, at 19:28PM**

__

_coffee??_

__

 

__

Jackson was stood outside the cafe, scuffing his feet and trying not to look nervous. Yien had said he’d meet him at eight, but Jackson had been nearby anyway, so he’d shown up ten minutes early and tried not to think about how it might look like he was trying too hard. Jackson had debated whether or not he should go in, but what if that gave off the impression he’d been there a while? What would Yien think? He’d had a buzzing feeling running through him ever since he’d known Yien’s flight had come in, as though the butterflies in his stomach had broken free and were flying wild around his body.

__

He was wondering whether or not he ought to get his phone out to appear casual and inconspicuous when something, or someone, caught his eye. Yien was walking down the street towards him, hood up and eyes fixed on the ground, and he appeared not to have noticed Jackson yet.

__

Yien was only wearing a hoodie, and immediately Jackson readied himself to chastise him for coming out without a coat on when the temperatures at night were now below freezing. As Yien grew closer Jackson could see the dark bags under his eyes, and his hair was falling into his eyes in the way it always seemed to do. He was gnawing on his lip, had they always been so pink against his skin? Had he always looked so tired?

__

Jackson wasn't sure whether or not he ought to call out but he didn't have to, as Yien looked up and smiled wide, taking several quick strides toward Jackson. Yien filled his vision as he drew closer, he was all Jackson could see. Not just as he was now, walking towards Jackson on a dark street, but Yien looking so small in Jackson’s jumpers, Yien through a webcam, exhausted but always, always so willing to be with Jackson for just five minutes, Yien taking Jackson’s hand without being asked when he could tell Jackson missed home, Yien sitting next to him on a park bench, white gold surrounding him as the sun set.

__

They collided in the middle of the street, and Jackson threw his arms around him. “Yien,” Jackson said, but his voice was muffled against Yien’s neck as he hugged him back. He could hear the sound of the street in the back of his mind as he breathed in the familiar scent of him, Jackson’s face buried in Yien’s neck, the smell of cologne and the ocean.

__

For a moment Yien’s arms were so tight around him that Jackson could barely breathe. Yien pulled back, and Jackson ran his hands down Yien’s arms, gripping him tight. He looked different, Jackson couldn't quite take it in. 

__

It had barely been two weeks but Yien seemed more angular, sharper, but his eyes were soft. It wasn't as if Jackson didn't know the colour of Yien’s eyes, brown like the rest of the people in the country, but now they seemed more impossibly black, and Jackson could make out a ring of golden brown around the edges. Jackson looked him up and down and saw the sweep of his collarbone disappearing into his hoodie, and the moment was broken as Jackson remembered how cold it was.

__

“Yien you idiot!” Jackson said, whining, as he pulled Yien inside, “It’s freezing and you only have on a hoodie? It’s supposed to snow in the next few days, you could get pneumonia! Stay here.” Jackson said, depositing Yien at a table but not before taking off his own jacket and placing it around Yien’s shoulders, not even letting him say anything before going off to get them drinks.

__

Jackson stood in the queue, eyes fixed on an irrelevant point, as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Jackson found himself out of breath now that Yien was back, a feeling in his gut as if Yien had been away for ten years not two weeks. Even now, it had barely been thirty seconds and Jackson was itching to get back, to be back next to Yien. 

__

Jackson shook his head and moved forward in the line, banishing these thoughts to some dark corner of his mind where they’d hopefully rot and die. But Jackson knew they wouldn't die, and the longer he neglected them, the more they’d grow until they consumed Jackson and he’d lose Yien for good.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty!! leave a comment if you want!!


	5. chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a mess, i'm completely bullshitting the term dates, this is so angsty and emo im sorry

Yugyeom looked distracted as he sat across from Mark at a tiny table in the campus coffee shop. His phone was lying face down on the table, and had been buzzing all the while they’d been there. Yugyeom wasn't looking at it, but every time another one came through, he’d blink.

“Are you gonna check that?” Mark asked when Yugyeom’s phone buzzed for the fortieth time and Yugyeom pressed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up and clenching his teeth.

“No,” Yugyeom said, eyes still closed. “I don't want to reply straight away, he’ll think I'm clingy.”

Mark laughed out loud at that, shocking even himself, causing Yugyeom’s eyes to open. “Is this that Thai kid? What’s his name again, Bang?”

“Bambam,” Yugyeom said, voice soft. “and no, why would you think that?”

“Cause who else would it be?” Mark asked. “I won’t push you Gyeom, but there’s no point playing hard to get, cause if he’s texting you even when you're not replying, he obviously likes you.”

“It’s not like that.” Yugyeom said, flushing dark red.

“Sure.” Mark said, taking a sip of his coffee but staring at Yugyeom all the while.

“And you’re one to talk anyway hyung.”

Mark choked on his coffee, putting it down on the table to stop himself spilling it but coughing wildly, spluttering as he looked at Yugyeom.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

 

It was now the middle of November, and the ground was icy as Mark made his way back from the coffee shop. The sun had set while Mark was with Yugyeom, and the streetlight was making the cold shine orange. Mark trudged through piles of dead leaves, mind elsewhere as he returned back home on autopilot.

He was so worried about Jiaer. He didn't know what he was worried about, he didn't know when it had started, he didn't know how it had started, and he didn't know why it had started, but every moment he found himself thinking about whether or not Jiaer had eaten his breakfast, or if he’d gotten enough sleep the night before, if he’d remembered his laptop charger for class today, if he’d been pushing himself too hard at training, if he’d been keeping calm about his assignments with the deadlines steadily approaching.

And Mark could never soothe his worries, cause he could never ask. It was only after Mark got back from Glasgow he fully started to realise how much he missed talking to Jiaer every night. No matter how much Mark thought about him when he was away, he could tell himself, _fourteen hours till I call Jiaer, nine hours till I call jiaer, four hours till I call Jiaer._ And Mark would hear about his day, and just be reassured that Jiaer was real and not something Mark had made up in his head.

Sure, they texted, a lot, but Mark wanted to see Jiaer, wanted to see him when he was half asleep, hair wet, stubble grown in, eye bags deep. He wanted to hear his voice, thick and scratchy through Mark’s earphones. Never mind how much Mark wanted to be with him, to feel his skin practically vibrate when Jiaer was within a foot of him, how something grew up Mark’s chest and into his mouth, making his breathing just that little bit more laboured and his head a little bit stuffy. Thinking about Jiaer made Mark’s teeth ache.

Mark reached his apartment, rushing up the stairs two at a time, dropping off his book bag and exchanging it for his gym bag, which was always sitting fully packed in Mark’s bedroom doorway. He scooped it up, hammering out the door again, yelling out a goodbye to Youngjae, who was lying on his sofa with his puppy on his chest, having barely registered Mark’s presence. 

The gym was barely a block away and Mark stumbled in, swiping his membership card and smiling at the bored looking girl working behind the desk, who sighed slightly and went back to staring into space. 

Mark got changed, his routine ingrained into him, closing his locker and shouldering open the door to the practically empty room, save for a girl on a yoga mat in the corner and two guys lifting weights and trying to get her attention. Mark ignored them and stepped onto the treadmill, selecting his program and beginning to run. 

Mark missed being able to run outside in the evenings, but the weather was growing worse, and Mark didn’t feel like going alone. His training was mainly keeping his body up to standard till he went back to America, staying flexible and practicing all he did in qualifiers till the team assigned him his routine. 

Lately, Mark felt so full of energy, feeling a tension in his arms like he wanted to reach out, like at any moment he’d spring loose and snap. It came and went, but it had gotten worse lately. Mark didn't want to think about it, but he knew. He knew it got worse around Jiaer.

Mark didn't know what to think. He tried not to think while he was running, his feet hitting the conveyor belt without trying to make him think about anything. And likewise, Mark tried not to think about Jiaer. He accepted things as they came but never let them manifest, allowing himself to think them and hoping that so long as he never thought about them again, nothing would happen.

Mark didn't want to think about it. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

 

Jackson really hadn't been sleeping. It wasn't even that he couldn't sleep, it was that he had no time. When he wasn't studying he was training, when he wasn't training he was tutoring, and when he wasn't tutoring he was studying. He barely had any time to see his friends, and Bam was getting moody. Jaebum just sighed and left food outside Jackson’s door, which often went untouched. And Jackson hadn't seen Yien for what felt like forever. They’d been texting, and Jackson would often have to turn off his phone and leave it in another room to stop himself from talking to Yien.

Now, Jackson was sitting in the library, textbooks and silence all around him, an empty cup of coffee perched on a pile of papers, perfect studying conditions. But Jackson was staring blankly at the table, knowing he had to be studying, knowing he had to be working on his dissertation, but unable to make himself move.

He felt so weak. Jackson had felt many things about himself, good and bad, but he’d never felt weak. Jackson could barely go five minutes without thinking about Yien, and it made him feel a lot of things, but lately it was making him angry.

Angry at Yien for making him feel like this, angry at his friends for making him feel like he couldn't talk to them about this, and angry at himself for needing someone he was going to lose. Ever since he was a kid, Jackson had always been independent, having so many friends it never mattered if he lost one, he’d make more friends and distract himself from ever feeling bad about it. Yien had crawled under his skin, but sometimes Jackson felt like he was the parasite, like he’d latched onto Yien and was sickeningly, pathetically, dependent on him.

Jackson stood up suddenly, gathering up his books and cramming them into his bag, crushing the plastic cup in his hand, letting the sharp edges bite into his skin. He pulled on his coat and half ran out of the library, eyes on the ground and step heavy as he made his way across campus.

He could feel his mind turning and his blood churning, letting his memory guide him back, the cold gnawing at him the whole way home. He ran up the stairs, hand shaking as he unlocked the door, stumbling inside and immediately going into his room to put down his bag that was so heavy Jackson felt like he was floating once he took it off. He took off his various layers, going into the kitchen to get an energy drink to stay up to work more. He’d been at training till the late afternoon and in the library till just now, and Jackson knew he was close to keeling over with exhaustion.

Jaebum was lying spread out on the couch watching tv, but stood up as Jackson walked past on his way back to the kitchen. 

“Jackson, don't even think about staying up.” Jaebum said, rubbing his eyes. “You need to sleep, you’ll be no good if you’re tired.”

“Mind your own business Jaebum.” Jackson snapped, shocked at his own words but not letting it show. “Go back to watching TV.”

“This _is_ my business Jackson,” Jaebum replied, completely unfazed. “you’re my friend and I care about you. You must be shattered, go to sleep, you’re not acting like yourself.”

“What does that mean?” Jackson said, grinding his teeth and running a hand through his hair. “What am I supposed to act like? You barely even know me Jaebum, as soon as I don't act like the hyper and annoying Jackson who everyone loves I’m _not acting like myself?”_

“Jackson, you know that’s not what I meant-“

“What did you mean then? Everyone expects me to make them feel good about themselves, to make them laugh, to entertain them and be interesting and to make them feel better. What about me? Do you have any idea the pressure I’m under Jaebum?”

“I know you’re stressed Jackson,” Jaebum said, remarkably calm. “but everyone’s stressed right now, no one’s expecting you not to be.”

“Oh everyone’s stressed right now? I have my exams, and if I don’t do well in them they won’t let me take next term off, and that’s kind of important seeing as I’m supposed to be at the _Olympics_ in nine months. My mum’s sick, and she’s not getting any better, my dad’s fucked off half the time, Coach is up my ass, and Yien- anyway, I’m sure it’s hard for you Jaebum, what with your all the work you do for your _poetry class,_ and I’m trying to tutor, cause not all of us are comfortable scrounging off our parents. But at least I’m not pining over some guy in a coffee shop, who doesn't even know you exist, and _never will._ This guy wouldn’t even be interested in you anyway, he’s probably not even fucking worth it, you’re just pathetic -“

“That’s enough.” Jaebum said quietly.

“Fuck you.”

“Go to bed, Jackson Wang.” Jaebum said, pinching the bridge of his nose and sitting back down.

Jackson thundered into his room, slamming the door and he could practically feel Jaebum sighing. He let out a yell, picking up a textbook and hurling it at his wall, before collapsing onto his bed and burying his face in his pillow. He wasn't crying. Jackson tried to calm his heaving breaths, curling up tight in a ball and swallowing the lump in his throat.

Jaebum came in late that night, and felt sadness bubble in his throat as he watched Jackson sleep, his pillow hugged tightly to his chest, eyebrows furrowed and frown deep, lips red against his skin as he mumbled to himself in Cantonese, and Jaebum closed the door, not even having to stop to listen to what Jackson was saying. Jaebum knew before he’d come into the room what Jackson would be saying, what he never said when he was awake.

 

Mark was used to not talking. He was perfectly fine sitting in silence with someone, with no real need to fill the air with conversation. And Jiaer seemed to like that about him, often just sitting quietly with him in each others company, but Mark could feel the tension between them like the air before a storm.

It had been weeks since Mark had seen him last, and with barely a week till Christmas break, it was unlikely they’d see each other again till they got back. Sure, Jiaer had exams and training, and they were texting a lot, but Mark could see from the tightness in Jiaer’s neck that something was wrong.

Things had gone as usual, Mark had met Jiaer in the library, and they’d staggered through the cold, squeezing into the cafe and getting their drinks. The conversation had been slow, and Mark had put that down to the weather. But Jiaer had brought their drinks over and still not said a word, just stared at the table, sneaking glances at Mark and then ducking his head back down. 

Mark tried to act normal, ripping open a packet of sugar and pouring it into his drink, but he dropped his spoon before he even managed to stir his coffee. Jiaer looked up, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, handing over his own spoon, leaning down to the floor to snatch up the fallen one, and wiping it on the sleeve of his jumper. He took a scoop of latte foam off the top of his drink and managed a smile, foam caught on his lip.

Mark felt his heart swell and he laughed. Jiaer’s eyes softened a little, but he still didn't say anything. Mark tried to ignore the feeling of papercuts inside him, and drank his coffee, doing his best to act like nothing was wrong, smiling when Jiaer made odd comments about the people around them and acting like everything was okay.

They finished their drinks in silence, and Jiaer stood up abruptly, chair pushing back and grating against the floor. A few people looked up but Jiaer didn't notice as he walked out, leaving Mark to go after him.

 

Jiaer slowed down outside and Mark caught up with him, falling into step together but mark still too anxious to say anything. The wind had died down and the air was still, frost crunching underfoot as they made their way across the campus lawn, Mark following blindly.

“Are you alright Gaga?” Mark asked, voice shaky, already afraid of an answer. 

“When did you dye your hair?” Jiaer asked in way of answer, avoiding the question.

“Oh, a few weeks ago,” Mark said, reaching up to touch his hair, which was now a light brown. He’d forgotten about it, and honestly, he’d thought Jiaer wouldn't notice.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Jiaer asked, stopping and turning to face Mark, voice accusatory. Mark felt his blood run slow. This wasn't like Jiaer, this wasn't like him.

“Well no, you’ve been so busy with your studying, and training, I didn't want to bother y-“

“So it’s my fault?” Jiaer asked, raising his arms out. “I have stuff to do Yien! I have exams, unlike you, and also unlike you, I’ve not made it to the Olympics yet, so I still have to train don’t I?”

“I’m sorry.” Mark said quietly, eyes wide as he looked at Jiaer.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry? What for? For not telling me you dyed your hair? For making it to the olympics? We’re not even friends Yien!”

Mark felt his stomach drop. Jiaer had his hands gripped in his hair and he’d grown louder, voice resonating across the empty campus.

“I mean, you’ve never met any of my friends, I’ve never met yours, we’ve not been to each others places, we never do anything together. All you do is just sit there while I annoy you, what even is this? What do you want from me? What is this? What are you? I mean, you show up with your accent and your fucking eyes, and what, you have your friends, and I have my friends, so what does that make me? What am I to you, am I just wasting your time? Say something for once, for fuck’s sake Yien. I’m probably not even going to see you now before winter break and you’re just standing there. You never even talk, would it fucking kill you to just-“

“Do you even want me?”

Mark’s voice came out loud, half a yell, and Mark heard it repeat itself in the distance. Jiaer froze, and he was looking at him, chest heaving, eyes bright, and Mark was gripped with the fear he’d gone too far.

“I mean, obviously it’s okay if you don’t I just thought maybe I was wasting your time, you have important stuff to do, I’ll just go, it’s okay, you have more important things than me-“

Mark felt his breath pushed out of him as Jiaer threw his arms around Mark, and Mark immediately brought his arms around Jiaer, gripping him tightly and burying his face into his neck, his nose burning where his cold skin met Jiaer’s. Jiaer wrapped his arm further around his back as he brought his hand up to drag through Mark’s hair. Mark pressed his eyes closed tight. He wasn't crying.

“You’re important to me.” Jiaer pressed his mouth into Mark’s hair, hushing him and whispering to him, apologising with a teary voice , and Mark _wasn't crying._

 

Jackson wasn't trying to avoid anyone. He wasn't going out of his way not to see anyone. He’d met up with Bam a few times, and he’d been seeing Jaebum as normal, normal being whenever he was awake. Jaebum had acted like nothing had happened, and Jackson was in no rush to bring up their argument again.

And Yien, Yien was the same. They hadn't seen each other since the night they’d had their little disagreement. Yien had been a state, and Jackson had wrapped his jacket around him and walked him back to his apartment. Some tall boy that Jackson vaguely recognised had opened the door, but Jackson had kissed Yien on the cheek and bolted before he could've gotten a better look at the guy, or let the guy get a better look at him.

They’d gone back to texting as normal, but Jackson didn't think they’d manage to see each other before they broke up for winter break. Jackson felt his stomach acid migrate to his lungs whenever he thought about it. It was only four weeks, then he’d be back with Yien, for all of two weeks.

But Yien implied that they’d be video calling again, so Jackson knew he’d see his face more often than he did now at least. And it was Christmas, so Jackson’s parents would have to stop working, and they’d spend the holidays together with Jackson’s brother and his fiancée, and all of their extended family. Jackson missed them so much it hurt sometimes.

Jackson still felt ill at the thought of what he’d done the other night. He’d completely snapped at Yien, over what? His hair? But no, it wasn't about that. Jackson felt like he was losing control, like Yien was slipping through his fingers in front of him. Like he didn't even know Yien anymore.

Did he even know him in the first place?

But the idea that he’d hurt Yien, that he’d yelled at him, _that he’d made him cry_. Jackson had gone home and knelt over the toilet bowl for half an hour because he was scared he was going to vomit. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He felt angry, all the time. There had been something buzzing in his skin, but now there was something roaring in his stomach. He felt like he was going crazy. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He didn't want to know what was wrong with him.

 

Incheon airport was an hour outside of Seoul, but Jaebum and Bambam had insisted on driving Jackson there. Jackson didn't complain, he had three suitcases filled with stuff he was bringing back to save him bringing it the next time he flew back home. 

Jaebum had parked and they each took a case, pulling them into the check in hall in relative silence. Jaebum and Bambam hung about while Jackson checked his bags in, and stood about awkwardly in front of Jackson, looking for all the world like his parents who were about to tell him his dog had died.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’ll be back after the break.” Jackson said, smiling but eyes slightly worried.

“We know, but…” Bam said, voice quiet.

“It’s just next time you’ll be leaving for so long.” Jaebum said, speaking for them both. “And it’ll be so long till we see you again.”

“Ah, don’t talk like that.” Jackson said, heart swelling. He’d not been the greatest friend to them, training so much and spending so much time with yien when he ought to have been with them. He’d barely gotten to know Yugyeom, who was obviously so important to Bam, and he’d not even managed to set Jaebum up with that barista he was obsessed with. “You can come to Hong Kong and I’ll give you a tour. It’s not far. Don’t worry about it.”

He pulled them both into a hug and let them say their emotional goodbyes. Jackson hadn't been expecting them to be so upset by it all, and tried to force the tears in his eyes to dry. He’d been crying too much lately.

 

The plane hummed beneath him and the voice ran over the tannoy to tell them to turn off their phones. Jackson held his phone in his hands and let his hand hover over the screen. Yien was flying to Taipei from Gimpo Airport, so his flight had left a little earlier than Jackson’s. He wasn't sure if he’d landed yet.

 

**jackson**

**to yien at 19:45PM**

_can we talk?_

 

**_Failure_ **

_Message failed to send. Recipient cannot receive messages at this time._

_Would you like to delete the message?_

 

He was still flying. Jackson deleted the message. It was stupid anyway.

 

 

 

**jackson**

**to yien at 12:04AM**

_i’m home. can you talk?_

 

**yien**

**to jackson at 12:05AM**

_please_

  
****

Yien picked up after the second ring. His eyes were bagged but his smile split his cheeks and Jackson found himself imitating it. There were muffled sounds behind him, of shouting and rapid fire Hokkien, of the television and pots clanking, and Yien looked happier than Jackson had seen him in a long time.

“When did you get in?” Jackson asked as greeting, trying to stop his eyes from closing.

_“About an hour ago._ _Everyone else arrived on Tuesday._ _Are you at your parents' now?”_

Jackson hummed and nodded, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater. “Mama’s at her sisters and dad’s away for work so it’s just me. My brother’s flying out tomorrow, but I’m all alone just now.”

 _“I wish I was alone,"_  Yien said, leaning on his desk and dropping his head in his palm, giggling. _Giggling_. _“I swear I don’t know half the people here, but Auntie’s house is near the sea, so it’s nice. And we’re still in the same timezone.”_

“You’re an idiot,” Jackson said, and grinned at how Yien pouted. “Yien, you have a visitor.”

A small figure had appeared in Yien’s doorway, and he turned around and beamed.

_“Leila! come meet Jiaer-gege.”_

The little girl toddled over and Yien lifted her into his lap, and she waved at Jackson on the screen.

“Hello,” Jackson said in English, voice soft.

 _“Hi! I’m Leila!”_ she said and Jackson laughed, but Yien looked at Jackson, exasperated.

_“No English Jiaer! She needs to practice her Chinese, Tammy’ll have my head.”_

“Oh, sorry.” Jackson said in English, laughing again at how Yien rolled his eyes, swapping bak to Mandarin. “It’s very nice to meet you Leila. Shouldn't you be in bed?”

_“She's supposed to be. Gege lives in Hong Kong. Do you know where Hong Kong is Leila?”_

The little girl thought for a minute, knuckles pressed to her chin. _“Near Seattle?”_

Jackson didn't think he had ever laughed so hard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> schools started again and i want to die, i think my emotional turmoil is passing into the fic, this is awful im sorry


	6. chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a belter of a chapter, awfully sorry. sorry if things seem rushed too, but we've got a big chunk of time to cover, so we gotta keep things moving, buckle up folks. this has not really been proofread either but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ also there's vomit in this chapter, so if that grosses you out just take your cues from how emo they're being. enjoy!! (i'm sorry)

Mark’s auntie lived by the beach. He’d often spent hours there as a kid, with his siblings and his cousins, leaving early in the morning and returning late with sand in their toes and seashells collected in buckets. Now, Mark took his nieces and his cousin’s kids there during the day, playing with them in the water and generally making sure no one accidentally ate a crab or something.  
****

But Mark had only discovered in the past few years how beautiful it was at night. His auntie lived in the south, a good few hours from the capital, still in the same town where Mark’s mother had grown up. His dad had grown up in Taipei, where Mark had been born, but while Taipei felt like home, Mark felt at home here too. Not that it didn't have it’s downsides. Mark was sharing a room with his brother and four of his cousins, only being allowed the mattress because he’d won a gold medal for their country, and even then they were still grouchy about it.

The beach was quiet, and although Mark loved his family, sometimes it all got a bit much. So every so often, he’d slip away, hopefully unnoticed, and head for the beach. It was barely a five minute walk, and in all the times Mark had gone, he’d seen less than a dozen other people.

The stars were bright on the water as Mark sat down on pale sand. The waves were black as they poured over the beach, and Mark could see the blinking lights of ships on the horizon. Somewhere directly ahead of Mark, and down a little bit, was Hong Kong. 

Mark couldn't stop thinking about him. He’d be going about his day, functioning entirely normally, but Jiaer was always there, humming alongside Mark’s thoughts. Mark hadn't really thought about it much, shoving it all into the back of his mind and the pit of his stomach. It was easy to ignore things, when he was training, and studying, and tutoring, and was too busy to eat let alone think about things other than fitness. But now, when it was just Mark and the ocean, there was nothing for Mark to do but sit and confront his thoughts.

And he’d been doing that, these past few nights. Mark knew he ought to think about his own things, but instead he just spent the whole time thinking about the curve of Jiaer’s jawbone, and his stupid laugh, his round lips and the slope of his nose, how solid he felt when he was next to Mark, and how no matter what Mark did, Jiaer always seemed to make Mark feel that everything was going to work out, in the end.

And Mark worried so much. Jiaer had snapped, one night, and Mark felt pathetic, for acting so weak about it. But Jiaer had been so upset, taking Mark home, and then calling him the next day and apologising in a thick voice that made Mark feel nauseous. He’d still not given him his jacket back. Not that Mark was going to have much use for it, when he went back to California.

Was it simply a desire to be friends with the guy? Mark had thought that, for a while, but now they were friends, good friends, close friends, best- and Mark’s feelings had only gotten stronger. Mark was sure it had to be hero worship, a desire to be like Jiaer. Maybe Mark admired his work ethic, or something. But it wasn't that, it was something more, something deeper, something, something  _more_. Maybe it was admiration, maybe it was friendship, maybe it was-

Mark stood up abruptly, dusting the sand off his jeans. The ships that had been in the distance had moved significantly further along the horizon, and the moon was high in the sky. Mark ought to get home.

He jogged the rest of the way back to his aunt’s house, breaking into a run halfway there, filling his mind with the pain of his bare feet hitting the pavement and the sound of his heavy breathing. Maybe Mark shouldn't go back to the beach. It wouldn't do him any good, to be alone with his thoughts.

 

 

Jackson really ought to know better than to wander about the streets at night. Hong Kong was relatively crime free, but common sense told him he really ought to be home right now. It was nearing the new year, Christmas having passed but Jackson struggling to feel it had come in the first place. He hadn't called Yien for a few days, but he’d been texting him. He felt he ought to be happy he was getting any communication at all.

It had been a bit confusing, over whether or not they should exchange gifts. Jackson had never done it with his other friends in Korea, just cause Christmas had never seemed to be as big a deal to them as it was to Jackson, which he felt personally offended by. Of course, Bambam always insisted on a gift, but Jackson would rather eat his own foot than buy him something expensive, with all the food he bought the kid and the nightclub fees he paid. So Jackson had settled on a bottle of bubblegum flavoured lube. Bam had choked, but not said much else.

But Yien, as always, was so different from the rest of Jackson’s friends, so it was reasonable for Jackson to assume this would be different too. He’d spent a while stressing over what to get Yien, but it hadn't felt right to ask for advice from anyone. Jackson had finally settled on a necklace he’d seen when he was out with his cousin on Christmas Eve. Not planning on buying anything that day, Jackson had only meant to meet his cousin for a drink when all the prices were lowered for the night, but the minute Jackson had seen it in the window, he was immediately drawn to it.

It was gold, a square pendant with an intricate design in the centre. It was sort of expensive, sure, but Jackson hadn't thought about it, not even blinking while he was paying for it, while his cousin stood outside. Yien deserved it, cause Jackson had given him such a hard time, and he was a shit friend and all. But the idea of Yien in himself made Jackson want to take care of him, to be the reason for him to smile for even a second each day. So Jiaer bought him the damn necklace. If you pressed him about it anymore, he couldn't say any more about why he bought it. He couldn’t. 

He’d give it to him when they got back to Seoul. He’d not even thought about if Yien had got him anything, but Yien’d texted him the other day asking how many centimetres round his wrist was, so Jackson was suspicious.

Jackson fiddled with his own bracelet right now, as he walked slowly through the park. He’d gone to see his Coach and had finished up about an hour ago, but had put off going back to his parents apartment for just a while longer. Jackson had moved to a big house on Kowloon in primary school, but his parents had moved back to Hong Kong island when Jackson was leaving high school. He'd missed the place. Jackson really ought to have been heading back, but he’d walked off in the opposite direction of the subway station, craving just a few more hours alone.

It was cold, and Jackson pulled his hoodie sleeves down over his hands, shoving them into his pockets and making his way to the subway station. It was past midnight, but the city was by no means slowing down, bright coloured lights filling his vision, cars speeding past, people pushing through the streets on their phones, vendors yelling from stalls trying to sell whatever junk they had, and cigar smoke and car fumes mixing with the smell in the air telling Jackson it wasn't going to rain for a while.

Jackson pushed into a coffee shop next to the station, joining the queue and keeping his head down. He mindlessly shuffled forwards, repeating his order to the exhausted looking cashier on autopilot, sliding forward his money and joining the cluster of people waiting for their orders. 

Yien took milk and two sugars, not sweeteners, there was something in them that hurt his stomach. He was one of the few people that Jackson knew that wasn't mildly lactose intolerant. Jackson ate ice cream by the tub, and liked milky coffee as much as the next guy, but he’d be doubled over with cramps within the hour. But that couldn't dull his love for cheese. The pain was worth it. Yien thought he was an idiot. But Jackson thought Yien was an idiot, pouring hot sauce on everything, drinking it out the bottle, shoving chillies in his mouth like they were popcorn. Jackson didn't have the heart to tell the guy he couldn't handle spice when they first started hanging out, trying to choke down spicy ddukboki and ending up almost crying, which was more embarrassing than telling Yien he couldn't handle spice in the first place. Yien had just laughed. Yien was always laughing, like-

Jackson’s order was called out and he jumped, startled. He took his cup and worked his way out of the cafe, only realising when he was back on the street that he’d been smiling to himself, like some kind of freak.

 

Jackson’s face quickly went back to blankness as he swiped his octopus card and made his way down to the platform, trying not to spill his coffee on a salaryman. The train slid into the platform as Jackson made his way down the escalator and he jogged slightly, making it there as it pulled to a stop.

The doors split open and Jackson joined the few people who had moved to the side to let the other passengers off. They breezed past, and a few stragglers made their way out, and Jackson readied himself to step into the carriage when his heart clenched.

A guy around Jackson’s age pushed past, smiling at something his friend had said. The bridge of his nose, curved jaw, sharp teeth and mouth that looked like it was too used to being in a pout. The guys hair was a dark blond, almost brown, and to Jackson’s deliriously tired mind, he looked exactly like Yien.

But no, he was too short, and Yien was skinnier. The guys eyes were narrower, and higher up on his face than Yien’s were. Yien had thicker eyebrows, and this guy was paler too. Plus, Yien would never wear a cardigan. 

Jackson forced himself to step into the carriage, collapsing into a free seat and willing his heartbeat to go back to normal. His pulse was hammering against his throat, and Jackson closed his eyes. Everything had gotten too bright all of a sudden. He felt like he’d just leant too far back on his chair, and though he knew he wasn't going to fall, his body still hadn't caught up with the fact that it was all okay. Jackson could physically feel his brain turning, and clutched his coffee, focusing on the warmth of it that was bleeding into his palms.

It was the shock, the shock of seeing someone that he thought he knew, the surprise and the confusion. It was late, he didn't know when he’d last eaten either, and Jackson was tired. He wasn't in his top mental condition, so it was okay that he’d overreacted a little. It was just the shock. This would pass. 

 

 

Jackson had only been back in Korea for around an hour before Bambam was nagging at him to take him out for food. Jackson was too busy to go for a while, speaking to his professors, finishing any final assignments, putting his stuff into storage, and getting ready to put his life in Korea on hold for the better part of the next year. But Bammie was an insistent little shit, so Jackson found himself being woken up from a nap to be dragged to a cafe by the kid, where they’d meet Jaebum. 

Bam had gone to find a table and was sitting glued to his phone as Jackson stood in the queue. He jumped as someone grabbed him from behind.

“Is he here?”

Jaebum was standing behind Jackson, hair pushed back and eyes wide.

“Is who here?”

“The guy who works here,” Jaebum said, incredulous. _“my guy.”_

“Ohh, the guy you’ve been stalking for the last year and a half-“ Jaebum hissed and slapped his hand over Jackson’s mouth. Jackson bit him till he let go. “I still don’t know which one he is, he better be gorgeous Jaebum.”

Jaebum groaned and rubbed his eyes as they shuffled forward in the queue. By the time they’d reached the front, Jaebum was half hidden behind Jackson, hands buried deep in the front pocket of his hoodie and practically hyperventilating. Jackson rolled his eyes, turning to the cashier. 

“Hello! How can I help you?”

In all honestly, Jackson knew where Jaebum was coming from. The guy wasn’t exactly hot, as Jackson had expected of someone Jaebum was so enamoured with, but he was beautiful, and Jackson was tempted to close his eyes, cause the guy was easily the human embodiment of the sun.

“Uh, yeah, a tall white coffee, a skinny soy milk latte, and a large hot chocolate with double syrup. Please.”

“Of course! Cash or credit?”

Jackson fumbled for his money, and waited as his change was counted out. He could feel Jaebum standing next to him, and didn't even have to look up to know Jaebum was staring. Of course, Jackson had heard a lot about the guy from Jaebum over the years. Jaebum talked about a lot of people, he had a few hookups now and then, but this one had held out, and Jaebum sounded like he was praying when he spoke about him. Jackson teased Jaebum about how he was being pathetic, but it wasn’t like Jackson was one to talk.

Jackson smiled as the change was pressed into his hand, and he immediately poured it into the tip jar. 

“Have a nice night!” the guy called and Jaebum made an odd gurgling noise at the way the guy’s eyes narrowed and entire being seemed to glow as he smiled. Jackson grabbed Jaebum’s arm and pulled him away, dragging him over to the table and leaving him with Bam as he went to wait for the drinks.

Jackson hurried over after he picked up their drinks, trying to stop Jaebum from punching Bambam as he sat there seething, Bam oblivious and continuing to tease Jaebum.

“Hyung, you should have seen yourself. I could see you shaking from across the room, he’s not even hot-“

“Shut up you bastard, at least he doesn't look like a lesbian farmer like your guy.”

Bambam just laughed, and Jackson saw Jaebum’s jaw tightening as he sat down. 

“Jaebum, don’t worry, we all think he’s gorgeous. The sun literally shines out his ass, and he’s got that cute little mole-“

“Hands off, he’s mine. I called dibs.”

“You know you actually have to speak to him first hyung?”

Jaebum made to lean across to hit Bambam but Jackson pressed his drink into his hands, so Jaebum opted for a death glare instead.

 

They made idle chatter, Bam complaining about his workload and Jaebum complaining about how kids these days have it so easy. Then Bam complained about his boyfriend and Jaebum complained about the guy he liked, and Bam complained about his parents and Jaebum complained about his cat and so on. 

Jackson loved them. He had a lot of friends, but these guys knew him, knew Jackson even at some of his lowest points and they still stuck around. He felt a swell of affection rising in his chest and tried not to think about how much he was going to miss them. 

“And I say to him, ‘Gyeom, that’s never going to work', and then he eats it anyway! He never listens to me, Jacks, do you listen to Yien?”

“Huh?”

“I  _said_ ,” Bam said, rolling his eyes, “Do you listen to Yien? When he tells you stuff?”

“Bammie, I don’t even listen to what  _I_  say, why do you think I would listen to Yien?” Jackson replied, heart beating only slightly faster than normal.

“Because you  _looove_  him."

“Bam, that’s enough,” Jaebum said, eyes warning.

“You’re no fun Jaebum.” Bambam said, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat. 

“Can we change the subject?” Jackson said, staring at a point in the distance and voice flat. Jaebum immediately started talking about his cat. 

 

_dontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutit_

 

“Yo hyung, I gotta go, I promised Gyeommie I’d meet him,” Bambam said, shrugging on his coat.

“What on earth are you going to do, it’s almost half eleven.”

“Never you mind,” Bambam said, standing up with a flounce.

“I better go too, I’ve got a meeting with the landlord tomorrow. You coming Jackson?”

“No,” Jackson said. “I’m meeting someone here. Don’t wait up.”

“Who’re you meeting?” Bambam pried, but Jaebum hit him round the back of the head.

“Who do you think? Don’t be too long Jackson,” Jaebum said, and with that they left, Bambam whining to Jaebum about something and Jaebum fiercely whispering in reply.

 

Jackson stared at his cup. He’d not touched it. It’d gone cold. The milk had swirled to the top, and most of the foam had evaporated and stuck to the sides of the mug. There was a line running down the side where some had spilled out when Jackson had put his sugar in. The coffee here was good, not as nice as their usual place but this place was open later, and closer to his and Jaebum’s apartment, and was on the way to the literature department, where Jaebum was most of the time. Yien was on the other side of the campus, in the economics buildings, Jackson even further away, but his building was close to Yien’s, so they’d get lunch sometimes.

Yien ought to be here soon. He was probably walking over right now. It was pretty far from his apartment, maybe Jackson should've gone somewhere closer, so Yien didn't have to be out in the cold for so long. The ice had mostly dissipated, but the winds were strong, and Jackson wasn't sure if it was raining or not.

Jackson kept his eyes on the door, shifting every time it opened. Jackson was staring into his coffee when he heard the door opening again, and felt wind ripping around the building and into the coffee shop. Yien pushed through, looking around for Jackson and smiling, heading straight towards him. Jackson stood up and took a few anxious steps forward, meeting Yien in the middle.

Jackson wrapped his arms around Yien’s middle, trying not to crush him. He could feel Yien’s thin hands around his neck, fingers freezing and drawing out the warmth from Jackson’s skin. Jackson buried his face in Yien’s shoulder, the soft fabric of the sweater brushing against his cheek, the smell of cologne and dryer sheets getting caught in Jackson’s nose. 

Yien pulled back and Jackson ran his eyes down his face. He was more tanned, and his teeth shone white in contrast. He smiled a little easier, but what Jackson noticed most was that Yien’s hair was back to black. Jackson didn't even think, reaching his hand up to touch it before freezing mid air. Yien laughed.

“Go ahead,” he said, and the sound of his voice did something funny to Jackson’s neck. His hair was soft, not as coarse as Jackson’s own, and he found himself locking his fingers into it, before pulling back and holding his hand awkwardly at his side.

“I never got you a drink, I was worried it’d get cold…”

“Don’t worry about it Jiaer. Sit down, I’ll be back in a sec.” Yien said, slipping off towards the counter.

Jackson sat down and watched as Yien ordered, focusing his eyes on Yien’s back, the way he parted his lips as he looked up at the menu, his eyes moving about as he spoke with the cashier, the way his neck tensed as he laughed, the slope of his fingers as he took the change from the guy, the way he stared at his shoes as he waited for his drink, the way the muscle in his wrist pulled as he stirred in sugar.

Jackson dropped his eyes back down to the table as Yien walked back, looking up as Yien slid a mug over to Jackson.

“You hadn't touched yours, and it looked like it'd had gone cold,” he said, and Jackson felt his face heat, and reached for his wallet. Yien grabbed Jackson’s wrist, and he froze. “Don’t worry about it, it’s free anyway. My roommate works here, I get discounts.”

Jackson nodded and they lapsed into comfortable silence, Yien staring at Jackson until he took a sip, each nursing their drinks and not saying anything.

“I got you something.” Yien said, breaking the quiet. 

“Me too.”

“Same time?” he asked, pouting, and Jackson felt his neck warm. He pulled the box out of his jacket pocket, and held it in his lap, looking at Yien. Yien had pulled a box out of his pocket and placed it on the table and Jackson felt his stomach acid churn.

“Relax Jia, I went into the store in Tainan with my sister and bought one for myself, and the manager had a kid that did gymnastics, they gave me a discount cause I’d won gold so the kid’s club got more funding, and the team did some promotional work for them a few years ago anyway.”

“But are you sure you want me to…?”

“Yes Jiaer, just take the goddamn gift. Come on, put it on.”

Jackson opened the box, heart in his mouth as he looked at what was inside. The gold shone under the lights of the cafe and Jackson lifted it up with shaky hands.

“How do you put it on?” he asked, and Yien rolled his eyes.

Yien took the bracelet from Jackson’s hand, picking up the screwdriver and twisting the screws undone. Yien picked up Jackson’s arm, pushing his sleeve back and holding it so that Jiaer’s forearm was facing up. Yien’s thin fingers were like snow on Jackson’s skin, and he felt himself getting goosebumps from the cold. The air was hushed as Yien pressed the two halves of the bracelet together, holding it tight as he placed the screws back in.

Jackson stared at his wrist and then at Yien, eyes wary.

“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want it,” Yien said, eyes wide, “I mean, you’d have to take it off for practice, and I wasn't sure if the colour was right, they’re pretty resistant but it’s fine if you don’t like it, and you might feel weird if I wear mine too, I can take mine off if you want-“

“You have one?” Jackson asked, interrupting, and Yien nodded, raising his arm up and pulling his sleeve back, showing off his forearm, the bracelet settling further down his skinny arm than Jackson’s did.

“Mine’s rose gold, if you like this one better you can have this one.”

“I love it Yien,” Jackson said, reaching across and linking his fingers through Yien’s, sighing. “but now my gift seems really lame.”

“you got me something?” yien asked, and jackson almost laughed.

“Of course I got you something, don’t be dumb,” Jackson said, reaching over and picking up the box, sliding it over the table. Yien’s eyes widened and Jackson found himself laughing again. “Don’t make that face, not when you got me something worth a year’s rent.”

Yien flushed, pulling the ribbon loose and twisting it round his finger before opening the box. He smiled as he pulled the necklace up, letting it coil into his palm. 

“It’s so pretty,” he said, staring at his hand, before lifting it up and attempting to fasten it, fingers fumbling and clumsy from the cold.

Jackson rolled his eyes, moving the coffee mugs to the side of the table and leaning across, taking each end in his hands. He was acutely aware of how his arms were looped around Yien’s neck to fasten it, and how he could feel Yien’s breath on his collarbone. Jackson tried to focus as he fixed the latch, but there were goosebumps rising on the skin where Jackson touched, and he was so close to Yien’s neck, where the scent of his cologne was always the strongest. His hair brushed his jaw slightly, and Jackson pulled back as soon as it was clicked shut.

“It looks nice,” Jackson said, coughing slightly. And it did look nice, settled in the middle of Yien’s chest. He reached up and clenched it in his palm, smiling.

“Thank you, Jiaer. I love it.”

Jackson clicked his tongue, running his hand through his hair.

"How was Taiwan? From what I saw it was pretty.”

“It was great, and seeing my family is always nice. My nieces are so grown up, and I haven't seen some of my cousins for years. The places are all the same as they used to be, the beach especially.”

“The beaches in Hong Kong are nice, but the water’s so polluted, I’d be afraid to go in,” Jackson said, half laughing.

“Come to Taiwan then,” Yien said, smiling. “What did you do in Hong Kong?”

“Not much, met up with my coach a few times and friends from school. Did I tell you, my brother’s set the date for the wedding, mama’s ecstatic. It should be before the new year, November I think.”

“That’s good.” Yien said, and they sat again. Jackson knocked back his drink, letting his stomach settle before he asked.

“How’re we gonna do this Yien? After we leave?”

Yien froze, resting his spoon on the edge of his cup, looking up and staring at Jackson’s shoulder.

“I’ll train six hours a day during the week, four hours on Saturdays, two hours on Sundays. You’re five or six hours Monday to Saturday and Sunday’s off right? Do you think we’d be better off just talking on the weekends?”

“Just the weekends?” Jackson asked, and he felt a brick settle in his chest.

“I mean, just video call at the weekends, cause I’m not getting up early on the Saturday and Sunday, so it’ll be evening for you. Like what we usually do, just not so often.”

“Can I text you, through the week?”

“Of course Jia. And we can call if we have the time or whatever. It’ll be okay.”

“Alright,” Jackson said, staring at the tabletop and keeping his eyes focused. “But I expect extra long video calls.”

“Pinky swear,” Yien said leaning forward and twisting his little finger around Jackson’s. 

“What’ll we do after the games though?” Jackson said, straining to keep his voice from cracking.

“I don’t know Jiaer.” Yien said, letting go of Jackson’s pinky to link the rest of their fingers together. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t know Jiaer.”

  
****

“It’s nice like this,” Youngjae said, filling the soft quiet between him and Mark. Jinyoung and Yugyeom were in the kitchen, making popcorn while the movie was paused. Mark could hear them bickering from the living room. “It’s been so long since the four of us have hung out, and with you leaving…” Youngjae trailed off, gnawing his lip and eyes dropping to the floor.

“It’ll be alright Jae.” Mark said, reaching over and squeezing his upper arm. “I’ll come visit, and you guys can come out to LA. And you better all be watching me this summer.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Youngjae said, smiling again, before leaning in to Mark, voice slightly hushed. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do? You and your guy, Jiaer right?”

“We’ve got some plans,” Mark said, trying to make it clear he didn't want to talk about it. “and you, have you seen that hot guy at work lately?”

“Yeah! He came in right before my shift ended the other night,” Youngjae said, immediately distracted, slightly flushed but bright. “He’s so shy but he seems so tough, I wish he’d talk to me.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Mark said, “You need to take some control.”

”Ah Mark, I’m too shy. I’ll just memorise his coffee order, and buy the same hoodies he wears. That’s not weird right?” Mark just laughed. “And hey! When he came in, I swear I recognised the guy he was with, I’m sure he’s a foreigner, do you know him? Short, ordered soy milk, probably lactose intolerant?”

“Youngjae, you probably just described half the population of Asia. And just cause I’m a foreigner doesn't mean I know all the other foreigners!”

Youngjae made to retaliate but before he could, Jinyoung and Yugyeom came in, laden with bowls of popcorn and arguing still. 

They settled into the couch and turned on the movie, some cheesy Korean dubbed action film that Mark only half understood, a combination of trying to lipread the English and grasp some of the Satoori the main character was speaking.

He felt happy, being with his friends, but sad too, as he knew this was likely the last time they’d all be together before he left. Yugyeom was spending so much time with his kid Bang or whatever, and Youngjae had picked up double shifts at the coffee shop, since his mum was sick and Mark wouldn't be around to help out with grocery money, despite Mark having payed a year’s worth of rent in advance. And Jinyoung was going back to Changwon in a few days, so Mark would have to say goodbye early.

He supposed that was something all international students had to deal with, but mostly they all stuck together, so at least all of their friends would be also leaving at the end of the year. Maybe Mark ought to have stuck with other foreigners, but as he looked around he saw Yugyeom with popcorn up his nose, Youngjae laughing so hard he was crying, and Jinyoung hitting him around the back of the head for being gross. Yugyeom whined, before settling his head on Jinyoung's shoulder, and Youngjae laid back, legs in Mark's lap, and he knew he wouldn't have wanted anything else.

 

 

All too soon, Jackson was sitting with Bambam’s head in his lap as Jaebum drove him to the airport. Jaebum had borrowed his brother’s car for the occasion, and filled the boot with what was left of Jackson’s belongings, the back seat taken up with Bambam spread out, overcome with emotion. He had his head tilted back and hand rested against his brow, looking like he ought to be posing for a renaissance painter, rather than lying in a beaten up Range Rover speeding down the highway at five o’clock on a friday night.

They pulled into the parking lot, Jaebum slipping coins into the ticket machine and Bambam groaning. Jaebum parked and they all hauled out cases, even Bam being quiet for long enough to take Jackson’s carry on bag without complaining. They shuffled through towards the check in hall, Jaebum and Jackson with cases rolling behind them, and Bam with the bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses on, and strutting across the hall.

Jackson got in the queue to check in, Jaebum and Bambam standing awkwardly off to the side as Jackson handed over his passport and cases, holding his boarding pass in his teeth as he wandered back over to his friends, trying to stuff his papers back into his bag. 

“Well. This is it.” Jaebum said, with half a sigh. “See you in a few months then.”

“Hyung I’m going to miss you so much!” Bambam said, throwing his arms around Jackson with semi-fake sobs. “Who’s going to buy me food now?”

“Won’t Yugyeom do that for you?” Jackson said, Bambam managing to make him laugh even now.

“Hell no, I pay for everything, little punk never has his wallet,” Bam said, scowling, and Jaebum choked. Bam released Jackson and Jaebum pulled him into a one armed hug.

“We’ll see you soon Jacks, and we’ll watch for you on the TV, yeah? You better qualify, or I’ll be so mad.” 

“Jaebum, I’ll qualify if you talk to the guy at the coffee shop, deal?” 

“What?” Jaebum said, slightly pale. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s very fair. Do you not want me to do well?”

“Of course I do,” Jaebum said, smiling. “and while you’re gone, we’ll find Yien. We’ll form a committee.”

“Good luck with that,” Jackson said, snorting. “I better go through security now.”

“But you’re so early! Your flight isn't boarding for like another four hours.”

“I’m meeting someone,” Jackson said, pulling them both in for another hug, sniffing slightly. “You’ll barely even notice I’m gone. You better water the plants Jaebum.”

Jaebum and Bambam watched Jackson go, strolling off towards security, turning back a few times to wave. Each time, Jaebum furiously swatted at his eyes, and Bambam was openly crying by now. They watched Jackson go, until he became smaller and smaller, blending with the crowd until there was so much space between them that he may as well have not been there at all.

“He’ll be okay, won’t he hyung?” Bambam said, eyes watery. 

“Don’t be daft Bammie. Come on, let’s get you home.” Jaebum said, guiding Bambam by the arm back out towards the parking lot, neither quite sure who was leading who.

 

When Jackson made it out of security, he immediately made his way to the Starbucks in the middle of the terminal, and not far from the gate he usually left from. He walked there without thinking, having walked through the terminals alone enough times to know his way about, knowing a little bit more than he wished he did.

Yien was sitting in a booth, head ducked down, only visible from the tuft of hair sticking out the side. Jackson had texted him before he’d gone through security to tell him he’d be there soon, and Jackson hesitated before joining the queue, peering his head round and already seeing two coffee cups on the table. Jackson made his way over, sliding into the booth without saying anything.

Yien looked up from his phone, vaguely startled but his blank face immediately turning into a grin. His eyes were bright as he slid a coffee cup across the table to Jackson, and he took it gratefully, letting it burn his throat a little as he drank it. 

“You weren’t waiting long were you?” Jackson asked, wrapping his hands around his coffee cup.

“Security took a while so I’ve only been through about half an hour. I got some stuff for Leila and Kylie at the Disney store, so I’ve only been here for about ten minutes.”

“Ooh, what’d you get them? Who are their favourite princesses?”

"Too much,” Yien said, lighting up a little as he spoke, “Kylie likes Mulan, cause the grandma reminds her of my mom. She likes the songs from Frozen, but she doesn't like the movie much, the trolls scare her. Leila’s too young for princesses, but she really likes Minnie Mouse so I got her a cuddly one.”

“Cute,” Jackson said, leaning his elbow and on the table resting his head in his palm. “I really liked Winnie the Pooh when I was a kid. Did you get that in America?”

“Yeah,” Yien said, laughing a little. “My brother used to watch it, but he started speaking Chinese with an English accent so dad made us watch the dubbed version instead.”

“I had a teddy bear called Winwin, after Winnie the Pooh. My auntie got me it for my second birthday, I had him for years, he’s in my parents house somewhere.”

“Were you one of those kids that took his teddy bear everywhere?” Yien asked, gazing at Jackson, leaning back in the booth. “Did you throw a tantrum whenever you didn't have him?”

“Probably,” Jackson said, “one of the first things I remember is when I was around three or four, and there was this  _huge_  typhoon, but they said it would pass us so the schools were still open, so my auntie had taken me to nursery as usual. But around the afternoon, everyone realised it was gonna hit us so the other kids all went home. My parents were away so there was no one to come get me, and auntie couldn't drive over from Kowloon cause of the rain. So I was sitting in the reception of the school, teddy bear clutched to my chest, and it’s raining so hard I thought that if I went outside I’d get swept away.”

Jackson looked, up, anxious in case he was boring Yien. But Yien had leaned forward, and was looking intently at Jackson, attention fixed on him. 

“Why’d you stop?” he asked, “What happened next?”

“Sorry,” Jackson said. "I’m sitting there, and I remember thinking,  _‘I’m just gonna have to live in the school for the next few weeks till mama gets back,’_ but just as I’m gonna ask the teacher if I can have a nap, my brother comes bursting through the door and he’s got water pouring off him onto the carpet. He thought our auntie had picked me up so he’d gone back to a friends cause we lived too far away for him to make it home. And he doesn't even say anything, just looks at the teacher, picks me up, opens the door, and he just ran.”

“How old was he?” Yien asked, gnawing his lip. 

“I think he must have been ten or eleven? No! I remember, there were British soldiers all over Wellington Street cause they were helping with the move out of a government building, so that must’ve been the summer of the handover, so I was three and my brother was ten.”

“So my brother was running down the street to get to his friends apartment building, and I had my little backpack on and my jacket, and Winwin held to my chest, but the water was pouring down into my eyes and the wind was stinging my face, so I tried to wipe my eyes but my bear flew out of my hands and down the street. And I started crying and crying, but my brother wouldn't stop cause if he did I’d probably drown. So my brother’s running and running, and I’m crying, but then we hear yelling and and I look up and there’s this soldier running down the street and yelling. He catches up and runs alongside us, doesn't say anything, just hands me Winwin, and smiles, and I just start laughing and laughing. And then my brother runs till we get to the apartment, and we just sort of collapsed in the lobby.”

“Were you okay?” Yien asked, eyes wide.  

“Of course not, I got pneumonia and was in hospital for three weeks. But I had my bear.”

“I was so worried,” Yien said, flushing slightly, “like, you’re sitting right in front of me, so I know you didn't die or anything, but still.”

“That’s cause you’re a baby,” Jackson said, teasing, ducking as Yien swatted over his head. 

“Don’t be an ass just cause I’m interested in your life. What was it like, growing up in Hong Kong?”

“It was good,” Jackson said, sipping his drink. “trained a lot. Went to school. Normal. But Hong Kong itself is great, I love it. I kinda have to live there anyway to train and stuff, but even just from living in Seoul I know I want to go back home.”

“It’s kinda the opposite for me,” Yien said, still smiling but it no longer met his eyes. “I’ve never really felt American, I wasn't born there, I didn't grow up there, not really, but at the same time, it’s not like I feel Brazilian even though I lived there. And now after living here, I’m even more sure. If it weren't for my contract, I’d move back to Taiwan. My parents are gonna move back now Joey’s started college anyway.”

“You should move to Hong Kong,” Jackson said, grinning. “you’d like it, plus you speak Mandarin and English, so you’d get along fine. We’d have to work on your accent though.”

“What’s wrong with my accent?”

“It’s too good, everyone’ll know you’re a foreigner.”

“My English has gotten so bad though,” Yien said, shoulders low. “Back in qualifiers, it was kinda hard, keeping up with everyone, but even the other week, Kylie kept speaking English to me and I was replying in Chinese.”

“We can speak in English right now if you want?” Jackson said, already trying to stop thinking in Mandarin. 

“No, it’s fine,” Yien said, a little too quickly. “It’ll be English only after this, let’s just keep on as normal. My flights been delayed, so we’ve got almost two hours.”

“Only two hours?” Jackson asked, and his heart sank as Yien nodded. “Do you want to do anything? I heard there’s an ice rink…”

“Can we just stay here?” Yien asked. “If that’s okay. Can we just sit here, and talk, like we always do? Like normal, like nothing is- like nothing is changing.”

Jackson nodded, and started talking about whether or not he should sleep on the plane, and Yien smiled again, and Jackson kept talking, desperately trying to make himself believe everything was going to be the same as it always had been.

 

When Yien’s gate appeared on the board behind him, Jackson was tempted to not say anything. But Jackson looked over at the way Yien’s hair fell into his eyes as he leant forward, doubled over at some shitty joke Jackson had made, and Jackson knew if he stayed with Yien any longer, he’d be likely to knock him out so he couldn't leave. 

“Yien,” Jackson said, quiet, and Yien sat back up, pointed little teeth still showing as he grinned. “Your gates been announced.”

Immediately Yien’s face dropped to the point of stoniness, mouth hardening and eyes downcast. 

“I need to go don’t I?” and Jackson nodded, neck stiff. Yien sighed, running a hand through his hair, hoodie sleeve falling back to show his bony wrist. His bracelet hit against the fabric of the hoodie, glinting off the dim light and Jackson felt something shift.

“You’re wearing it?” Jackson asked, and immediately felt stupid, because of course he was wearing it, the thing didn't come off.

“Yeah,” Yien said, knowing what Jackson meant. “thought it wouldn't get through security with me, but we managed.” Jackson smiled, reaching for his own bracelet on reflex. He hooked his thumb round the inside, tugging on it slightly.

“C'mon, let’s get you home,” Jackson said, standing up, turning away from Yien as he picked up his bag, not letting Yien see how he screwed his eyes shut tight, turning back around with a smile, throwing an arm around Yien’s waist as they walked back out into the terminal.

Jackson resisted the urge to ramble about something irrelevant, trying to focus all of his attention on the way Yien felt, tucked close into his side, how Jackson could vaguely smell his cologne and the freshly ground coffee that still lingered. Yien slotted into Jackson’s side and Jackson felt their steps go into sync as they pushed through the crowds towards the gate.

They reached the glass doors that separated the main terminal from the gates where the transcontinental flights left from. There were already people pushing through them, and Jackson pulled Yien into the side, so no one would walk into them as they said goodbye, and so Jackson didn't get arrested for punching someone in the face and get his Visa revoked.

Jackson stood in front of Yien, both of their bags leaning against the wall, and Jackson reached his hand out, meaning to stroke Yien’s cheek but changing motion so his hand was rested on Yien’s shoulder. Yien’s face was unreadable, and Jackson wasn't quite sure what to say.

They both moved forward at the same time, Yien pressing his nose into Jackson’s shoulder, Jackson burying his face in Yien’s hair. They were so close together that Jackson could feel Yien’s heart beating against his own, and Yien’s eyelashes curling into the skin on his neck. Jackson pulled him tighter against his torso so their bodies were pressed even closer together, before pulling back, his hands cupped on the sides of Yien's neck.

“I’m gonna be alone again.” Jackson said, smiling as he tried to keep his voice from breaking. Yien’s eyes were wide and shining, and he looked vulnerable. Scared. Yien pulled Jackson forward and ghosted his mouth against Jackson’s forehead for barely a second, before pulling back and holding Jackson’s hands in his own.

“You won’t be alone.”

Jackson’s grip loosened, one finger at a time. He stepped back, not looking away from Yien.

"You’ll be safe? And you’ll sleep, and eat three meals a day, and listen to your coach, and train hard.”

Yien just smiled and nodded, before stepping back as well. Jackson didn't move as Yien picked up his bag, stepping backwards until there was a half a metre between the two of them.

“I’ll see you in Rio Jiaer.” Yien said and Jackson felt like he was underwater, sound rushing over his ears. Yien walked backwards a little bit, before turning around and heading through the glass doors. Jackson didn’t look away from his retreating figure, staring as Yien turned around once he was through the doors, lifting his hand in a pathetic attempt at a wave. Yien smiled, before turning and disappearing out of Jackson’s sight.

Jackson didn't move, turning back to lean against the wall. There was probably ten metres between them now. Fifteen metres. Twenty. There was probably thirty metres worth of space now, filled with businessmen, and families, and students, people moving back and forth in between the space between their two bodies.

Jackson was reluctant to move from where he was once able to see Yien, but he could feel people were looking at him and the last thing he wanted was anyone asking if he was okay.

He turned around and walked back through the terminal, letting his feet guide him. His gate hadn't been announced yet, but for the two dozen times Jackson had flown from Incheon, the gate had never changed. Jackson probably had around an hour till his flight started boarding, but he sat down, placing his bag in the seat next to him, and the call over the tannoy saying the flight to Los Angeles was about to depart rang in Jackson’s head.

 

It wasn’t a conscious decision. It hadn’t hit him with a vomit inducing choke or a punch in the gut. 

Realising he was in love with Yien came as quietly as the rain that marked the beginning of a typhoon. 

Realising he was in love with Yien was like learning about gravity. Now that he was aware, he couldn't go back to pretending it didn't exist. It was there. Pretending he didn't know the name of the feeling hadn't made it any less real.

It had probably been building for over a year, but Jackson didn't feel as though anything had changed, not really.

Realising he was in love with Yien was not a revelation, was not a discovery, and was not at all a surprise. The sun rose in the East, the sun set in the West. Waves pulled towards the shore, leaves changed colour in the autumn, and Jiaer was in love with Yien.

If Jackson had expected anything dramatic, he would've been sorely disappointed, but all that he felt was an overwhelming sense of calmness settling deep in the marrow of his bones. 

Jackson felt more at ease than he had been for months, now being able to understand the burning in his head and nausea in his kidneys and scraping in his lungs, and the insomnia and the temper tantrums and the expiration of his attention span. No, he wasn't dying of some incurable disease, he was in love. 

Jackson looked up as someone tapped him on the shoulder, waving a hand in the general direction of the seat next to him, and Jackson mumbled an apology as he lifted his bag off and placed it in between his legs. 

The seating area by the gate was now packed, and when Jackson looked at the clock on departures board, he saw he’d already been sitting there for almost an hour. 

Jackson let himself drop back into his mind, staring at some irrelevant point in front of him, letting himself ease back into the realisation that none of this could ever be the same.

 

 

To say Mark was drunk would be an understatement. He felt like he was inside a tumble dryer, and all he could do was close his eyes and try to stay still.

He knew it was a bad idea the minute he arrived. Coach had been working him hard, but Mark was working himself even harder, going above and beyond the scheduled training hours. Coach hadn't said anything about it, but he’d told Mark that he’d have a rest day on Sunday, since coach had a family thing, which was basically an instruction to go out and get wasted on the Saturday night.

Of course, Mark had just wanted to call Jiaer, but when he told Jiaer that his friends had invited him out, Jiaer had immediately refused to call Mark that night, saying Mark should go out and live a little, not spend his Saturday night at home talking to Jiaer. So, despite Mark’s protests, here he was.

Spring break had started that week, and Mark’s friends were now too mature (and too broke) to go to Mexico or Florida or any of their old spring break haunts. But rather than act like ‘miserable old people’, they’d decided on a small gathering on a stretch of beach that ran along the front of someone’s parents house. Mark honestly didn't know whether he was closer to Santa Ana or to Santa Maria, just getting into someone's pickup truck and falling asleep, waking up as the sun was setting to the feel of bass hitting the tires.

It was not a small gathering. It was nowhere near a small gathering. There were hundreds of people there, and Mark knew around ten of them. A year ago, Mark would've sat by the bonfire, making conversation with someone so stoned they were practically comatose. But fuck it, Mark was an Olympian, he was jet lagged, he was lonely as hell, so he might as well get wasted.

Jessica had tried to slow him down, but Mark hadn't listened to her, cause when had he ever listened to Jessica? She managed to get him to drink half a bottle of water, but aside from that, Mark had downed most of a bottle of vodka, four shots of tequila, and something fruity he found abandoned on a table. He’d also not eaten since that morning, so that hadn't helped either.

Mark was a quiet person, and he was an even quieter drunk. He’d flopped around for a bit, before wandering off down the beach, letting the music become slightly more muffled and getting away from anyone he’d have to talk to. He regretted only bringing a bottle of beer along with him, as he already felt his head clearing, thanks to his aggravatingly fast metabolism. 

He shuffled onwards, feeling the sand between his toes and absentmindedly wondering where his shoes had gone. Something in him wanted to head down towards the ocean, but a louder something was telling him not to be such an idiot.

Mark plopped down, leaning forward and pushing his toes deep into the sand, his bottle held between shaky fingers. He let the wind from the ocean brush over his head, eyes and nose stinging from the salt in the air. He loved the ocean, the way no matter where he was, it was the same. The sand, the smell, the breeze through his hair. All of the oceans were connected, and no matter where Mark was, the water was the same.

But Mark found himself wishing he was looking out at the Pacific from the other end, thousands of miles from California on some different beach, with different waves hitting different sand, and different people at a different party. He wondered if Jiaer was watching his ocean, looking out over the harbour at the same ocean Mark was looking at now.

His mind was too far gone to stop himself from thinking about how much he wished Jiaer were here with him. Jiaer always knew how to make Mark feel at home, even the thought of him right now easing the slight sharp pain in Mark’s ribs. He always loved how secure he felt around him, but he'd always loved having Jiaer close, all warm and solid, because it meant that Mark knew he was safe, right there with him, how it always should be.

How it always should be.

 

It hit him like a ton of fucking bricks.

He sucked in a breath, eyes flying open. Mark tried not to crush the glass bottle in his hands, but it was hard because he was freaking the fuck out.

Because in that moment, Mark realised he loved Jiaer. He loved Jiaer, every single ridiculous thing about him, all the way down to his bones. Loved him so much that it ached, hot and sharp and constant, like a burning star lodged between Mark’s lungs.

He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the waves, but all he could think about is how a year of moments were suddenly making a horrible sort of sense. Snippets of memory flashed behind his eye, Jiaer’s mouth wide open as he laughed with his head thrown back, Jiaer whispering quietly in the dark of the library, the way his voice got deeper when he spoke Cantonese, pulling Mark into his chest, into his arms, when Mark was sad and bony and shivering in the cold, the perpetual warmth of him, the smell of smoke in his hair and cologne in his neck, the curve of his jaw and cheekbones, the brightness of his dark brown eyes.

 _You’re in for it now Tuan_ , Mark thought, and ignored how his inner voice sounded like Jiaer.

He stood, the bottle slipping from his hands and landing in the sand, the beer fizzing out of it and disappearing into the ground. Mark turned and stumbled forward, heaving himself back towards the crowd. He suddenly felt exhausted, his stomach crashing, vision dark and blurry, tongue too big for his mouth, and something horrible happening in his chest.

His feet were slipping in the sand, and Mark knew he was getting back to the rest of the party from the music hitting his ears. He was far too sober now, sober enough to be forever indebted to the fact that everyone around him would just assume that he was just another drunk, stressed out kid on spring break. 

He straightened up, lurching forwards till he came across Andrew, who was lurking at the drinks table and pouring something into a bottle of Pepsi.

“Mark!” he said, turning around and hiding the Pepsi amongst the rest of the drinks. “Where’ve you been? It’s getting late, or early rather, you’re been gone for ages. You okay man? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m great,” Mark said, before realising he’d just spoken in Mandarin, repeating himself in English. “I mean, I’m alright I guess. I’m- I’m good.”

“Yeah right,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. “The girls have all left, and Nathan said he’d call us a cab soon. Just stick this out, don’t pass out on me.”

Mark opened his mouth to answer but felt nausea rising in his stomach. He turned away from Andrew, crumpling to the ground, and heaved. The burning smell of regurgitated alcohol made Mark feel even worse and bile burned the back of Mark’s throat as he tried to catch his breath, but he gagged again, pain rising up through his body as his eyes watered, chest muscles contracting as he tried to keep himself propped up on his shaky limbs.

Soon, Mark was just retching, his body having pushed out everything he had, and all Mark could was shake as Andrew rubbed circles into Mark’s back. He helped him stand, and Mark looked down, relieved he’d not gotten any on his shirt. He leant on the table, taking a bottle of water from Andrew and swirling it around his mouth, spitting it out onto the ground. He lifted his shirt off over his head, passing it to Andrew who still hadn't said anything, just looked at Mark with concern. The cold bit at Mark slightly as he stood in his vest, but he didn't feel anything, just tried to bring his breathing back to normal.

“What’s with you man?” Andrew finally said, taking Mark by the arm and leading him up the beach towards the street. “You’ve never been a vomiter before, you sure you’re okay?”

“It gets easier”, Mark said, more telling himself than Andrew. “it gets easier, I swear.”

“What are you saying Mark, you know my Hokkien sucks. What do you mean?” Andrew asked.

Mark opened his mouth to reply but his arm slipped out from Andrew’s, vision tunnelling as he felt his knees weakening, vaguely aware of Andrew shouting but letting the sand welcome him, convincing himself that he didn't recognise the face he saw before he blacked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whomp, there it is. 
> 
> necklace http://got7-updates.tumblr.com/post/130140516510/the-necklace-mark-got-from-jackson-for-his
> 
> bracelets http://ldbigg.tumblr.com/post/147177116495/marksonforlife-chrome-hearts-and-cartier
> 
> it might be a while till the next chapter but i'm hoping to get things moving along soon ;)) and this isn't the end of got5 dw!! this is literally a mess, i hope the revelations they both had weren't too disgusting. thank you for the read, leave comments if u want!!


	7. chapter seven - interlude

 

it’s 12:00 AM 

and i love you.

 

i think i

love you more

than i did

a minute before.

 

-

 

it’s 4:00 AM 

and you’re keeping me

from closing my sleepy eyes

does the thought of me 

keep you up at night?

 

lately 

the ocean’s the only one around

who listens to my problems.

 

-

 

it’s 8:00 AM

and i haven’t slept yet

the sun's risen above the sea

i need to leave in an hour

are you awake?

 

sometimes

i swear i can hear you

walking around my apartment

 

-

 

it’s 11:00 AM

and everyone around me

is so unlike you

i’m trying to keep focused

am i still clear in your memory?

 

now and again

i’m scared i’ll say your name

whenever someone asks me a question

 

-

 

it’s 1:00 PM

and i’m stuttering

through what is normal

i forget you’re not here

do you think of me?

 

normally

i can go a day 

without talking about you

 

-

 

it’s 3:00 PM

and i can’t listen to the same songs anymore

listening to your voice

keeps me steady

do you still hear me?

 

recently

i forget the way

i used to feel

 

-

 

it’s 6:00 PM

and i’m so tired

of thinking i see you in the street

i can’t escape reminders of you

am i running through your mind?

 

constantly

i feel you standing

next to me

 

-

 

it’s 10:00 PM

and i’m weak

someone gave me a bottle of cologne 

the same one you wore

do you pity me?

 

pathetically 

i feel you closer to me

i swear it was a gift

 

-

 

it’s 11:59 PM

and i feel you with me

your face is pressed on the back of my eyes

i sleep on one side of the bed

are you sure you’re not here?

 

perpetually

i feel you existing within me

more than i feel you existed in the first place

 

-

 

it’s 12:00 AM 

and i love you.

 

in a minute,

when the new day comes,

and when i’m a little less

myself, a little less the one who you

might have loved, and when i still

hear your breathing in the drone

of the air vent and the wind

through the city and see

you, in the shadows

of my bedroom,

 

i know i love you 

more than i did 

a minute before.


	8. chapter eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is pure filler and self indulgence

It was two months till Mark could say it out loud. March was colder than usual, but Mark was grateful. He wasn't sure he’d ever get used to this much sun every day. He drank a lot of coffee. He slept whenever he could. He never really said anything when he texted Jiaer, sent him pictures of his coffee, and of himself with his mouth covered, videos of him practicing. He never said much when they called either, just let Jiaer speak. He could stare at Jiaer without feeling so confused now, but he felt guilty, a little sad, a little lonely now too. He knew he was in love with him now. But it was two months till he could say it out loud.

He started thinking about it the afternoon he woke up, on Andrew’s couch without his shirt on, burn in his throat, explosions in his head, and fourteen text notifications from Jiaer about how he’d seen a dog with eyebrows. He’d let himself wake up a bit, showered, drank two cups of coffee, and sat at the kitchen table of someone who he had once called his best friend, and tried to come to terms with it.

He started saying it in his head a few weeks later. He started with ‘I love Jiaer,’ repeating it over in his head, in English, in Korean, in Hokkien, in Mandarin, till he could think it without having to closing his eyes. 

Then it was ‘I’m in love with him. I’m in love with Jiaer,’ and that took longer. It was one thing to love him. Mark loved gymnastics, and coffee, and his mother, and his nieces, and Jinyoung, and Yugyeom, and Youngjae, and Youngjae’s dog. And he loved Jiaer. But it was the process of being in love, of _being in love with Jiaer_ , that took some getting used to.

The sun didn't shine brighter, he didn't listen to the singing of the birds or hug strangers or burst into song. It was more of a constant thing in the back of his mind, which to be perfectly honest he ought to have noticed a long time ago, but a person can deny something for so long that the slight shift from knowing to not knowing can scarcely make any difference.

But Mark still couldn't say it out loud. And maybe, just maybe, if he could say it, it’d get easier.

He tried to write it down, but English looked too obvious, too real, so he scrawled the Chinese on napkins before scrunching them up and leaving them abandoned in cafes. He would draw it on his thigh with his finger, when he waited to practice his routine. Most gymnasts had things they did to bring them luck before a routine, usually praying, but slowly it became a habit, not that Mark minded much. It was stupid, but he felt he did better, the acceptance easing his mind a little, making the routine a little smoother.

He started mouthing it at night, before he let himself fall asleep, words refusing to come out but mouth curving into the shape of them. He stopped feeling out of breath by the end of March, and by the beginning of April the plummet in his stomach settled to a stumble.

 

It was a Friday, and his day off, so he’d gone to the zoo in San Diego with his sister and his nieces. They’d ran about the whole day, screaming whenever anything moved. They’d fallen asleep in the back of the car before they left the parking lot. 

The drive was around four hours, and the radio hummed quietly as they drove, the sun starting to go down. Mark tried to sleep, but he couldn't get comfortable so he looked out the window, Tammy making the odd comment about the traffic but sitting in comfortable silence most of the time. 

The traffic had slowed as they came back into Los Angeles, but Mark didn't mind so much. They’d get back before midnight, and it’d make for something to tell Jiaer about.

Tammy had been tapping her hands against the steering wheel, and the radio was buzzing though the car. Leila and Kylie were still sleeping in the back, and the metal roofs of the cars in front of them were all glinting against the light of the setting sun.

“I’m in love with him,” Mark said. He didn't look at her, hoping his voice had seemed as though he’d been commenting on the traffic, but immediately he felt something in him loosen slightly.

“Who, the kid from Hong Kong?” Tammy asked, not looking away from the road. “Yeah, we know.”

Mark spluttered slightly and Tammy laughed.

“Oh please Yien, do you think we’d not noticed? You don’t talk much, but when you do half the time it’s about him. It’s cute. We caught on pretty quickly, normally people don’t have two hour phone calls every day with casual pals. You also gave him a bracelet that’s probably worth more than Joey’s car. Are you just realising it now?”

“It was the end of February,” Mark said, smiling slightly as he looked at his sister.

“Really? We all thought you must’ve already figured it out. Hell, even Leila was asking about it, but it let me introduce the idea of marriage equality to her, so thanks for that, I owe you one.”

“Marriage?” Mark said, trying not to choke.

"Yeah, she wanted to ask you if she could wear a princess dress when you get married to the guy from Seattle, but I told her yes so she wouldn't ask you. I didn't want her to scare you.”

Mark didn't know what to say so just looked ahead at the traffic. Five minutes passed and they’d driven two feet before he spoke again.

“What do I do?”

“Didi,” Tammy said, sighing. “don’t worry about it. This is the real deal alright, it’s not gonna go away, so you might as well get used to it. And besides, in the time it’s taken to have this conversation, he’s texted you half a dozen times.”

"What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark had asked, but his sister hadn't answered.

 

 

Jackson had thought he’d grow used to Hong Kong after being back for a few months, get bored, and want to go back to Korea, but it was halfway to May now and it hadn't happened yet. The longer he stayed, the more he wanted to, and the only thing stopping him from transferring to do his final year at university in Hong Kong was the fact that Jaebum would probably beat him up, and he wanted to annoy Bambam’s boyfriend. 

It was hard wrapping his head around the idea that Yien wasn’t going to be there when Jackson went back. It was just over three months till Jackson would see him again, but he was growing increasingly stressed about how he needed an excuse to keep Yien around once the games were over, (assuming he even made it in the first place) and the last thing Jackson needed right now was more stress, what with qualifiers in a few days.

He’d tried drinking, but that wasn't helpful, he just ended up talking about Yien and feeling shit the next day. He’d vowed to be sober till the games, to the dismay of his friends. They meant well. He knew they did.

 

_“Three, two, one, happy birthday!”_

 

_Jackson felt his face flushing red as his friends all crowded round him, and took a swig of the now half empty bottle that had been pressed into his hands ten minutes ago. Normally he’d be fine being the centre of attention, but at this point, he was too tired from training to feel anything other than exhausted._

 

_He’d been adamant he didn't want to do anything for his birthday, but his friends hadn't really cared. Jackson usually loved clubs, and any other time he’d have been wasted by now, but he really wasn't feeling up to it. His friends said that he owed them a night out since he was finally back after being abroad for the past few years, never mind that he’d been training since nine that morning, and he was only getting tomorrow off in anticipation of the hangover he’d have._

 

_They meant well, his Hong Kong friends, but it’d been so long since he’d seen them last. It felt rather like listening to a band you used to love, remembering everything you’d been through with them, but quickly remembering why you stopped listening to them in the first place, knowing you could never go back to the way your life had been when they'd meant to much to you._

 

_They quickly went back to talking and drinking, some of the girls floating off to go dance. Jackson found himself scrolling through his phone, reading through his texts. Jaebum had texted him an hour ago, when it had become his birthday in Korea already, and Jackson had sent him a thank you, chatting a little before Jaebum went to bed. Bambam had already told him in advance he’d text him in the morning since he had plans for the night, which made Jackson feel happier than he thought it would._

 

_His Facebook was already buzzing with notifications from the rest of his passing friends, Zitao having posted an ugly photo compilation, and Amber a terrible video that definitely would need to be payed back when her birthday came around. Jackson stood up, running a hand through his hair and intending to head to the bar when his phone started buzzing in his hand._

 

_Yien’s name lit up Jackson’s screen and he immediately picked up, only slightly embarrassed, already walking out towards the smokers section of the club, outside on the balcony overlooking the city, where the cell service was better and the bass wasn't so deafening._

 

_“Yien! Gimme a minute okay, I can’t hear you.” Jackson asked, one finger pressed into his ear to let himself hear better as he stumbled out of the club._

 

_It wasn't so packed as Jackson walked out, the humidity hitting his skin as he stepped out. He walked over to the edge of the balcony, the lights of the buildings setting the sky purple._

 

_“Is everything okay?” Jackson asked, bracing his elbows on the railing, “This isn't our usual time.”_

 

_Jackson felt a knot form in his solar plexus as he heard Yien breathing in._

 

_“Happy birthday to you,” Yien said, voice slightly breathy as he sang down the line, and Jackson felt every single muscle in his body contract. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday my Jiaer, happy birthday to you.”_

 

_Jackson was silent for a minute, trying to make his mouth form words that would come out in coherent sentences. His skin was buzzing and he breathed out, slightly laboured._

 

_“Thank you Yien,” Jackson said, trying not to sound as choked up as he was feeling. “you’re- thanks, Yien.”_

 

_Yien laughed through the line, and unwillingly Jackson remembered the way his teeth showed when he laughed, mouth open wide and eyes narrow, already being able to picture the way his eyebrows would be slightly furrowed like they often were. Maybe he was gnawing on his lip like he did when he was thinking, or fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie, or shaking his leg like he did when he was sitting still for too long._

 

_“Have you had a good night?” Yien asked, “I know you’ll be tired but try to enjoy yourself yeah? I just got to training, I’m sitting in the locker room avoiding going in right now.”_

 

_“Yeah, it’s been fine.” Jackson said, leaning on the railing. “I’m so tired, but I have a day off tomorrow. I'm not drunk yet, but I’m on my way.”_

 

_“Have you eaten lately?” Yien asked quickly. “You’re taking a cab home right?”_

 

_“Yeah, I don’t think I'll manage to get that drunk anyway. I’d save so much money if I was more of a lightweight.”_

 

_Yien laughed softly, and Jackson didn't say anything, looking out over the city, the boats on the harbour glinting quietly in the distance over the hum of the traffic below._

 

_“I miss you,” Yien said, and Jackson felt his chest constrict._

 

_“I miss you too,” Jackson said, voice catching slightly. “it’s been a month. Four more to go. That’s okay right, we just need to get through this week. And if we just do that sixteen times, it’s barely any time at all right?”_

 

_“Sure Jia,” Yien said, and Jackson could see him smiling. “I should go. Coach is gonna come looking for me. I'll text you later okay? And I think I’ll be free to call on the thirtieth for you, I have a medical that day so I can stay up later the night before.”_

 

_“Okay Yien. Work hard.”_

 

_“You too. Don’t stay out too late okay, text me when you get home.”_

 

_Yien hung up and Jackson kept the phone pressed to his ear, steadying his breathing before pulling it away, slipping it into his pocket as he looked back out over the city, hand absentmindedly going to fiddle with his bracelet. He’d been doing that lot lately._

 

“Tuan Yien!” Jackson said as the call connected through and Yien immediately started smiling. His hair was damp and pushed back from his forehead, and Jackson tried not to draw in a breath. “How are you feeling, how was your week?”

 _“Good, I went to the zoo with my nieces. We saw the pandas,” Y_ ien said, rubbing his eyes _. “Apart from that, just training. My individual routine is just about done so it’s just practicing them now. How’s your mom?”_

“She’s doing better, she’s getting this weird traditional treatment which she says is working. She wants to come to qualifiers on the mainland, but I don’t think she’ll be well enough. Dad says she should save her strength for the actual games, but I don’t want her to miss watching me in case I don’t make it.”

“ _You will,”_  Yien said, firm. _“I know it.”_

“You’re so encouraging baobei,” Jackson cooed, grinning at Yien’s blush, “where would I be without you?”

 _“Asleep probably.” Y_ ien said, _“or out with your friends, instead of stuck with me.”_

“Don’t be an idiot,” Jackson replied, wishing for the twentieth time today that he was with Yien. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

Yien sighed, shaky through the pixellated image on Jackson’s screen, hand reaching up to wrap his hand around the pendant of his necklace.

 _“Are we just kidding ourselves?”_ Yien asked, looking away from the webcam. _“I don’t want to distract you from training, you shouldn't bother,”_

“Yien,” Jackson said, trying to keep his voice low. “you’re so important to me, don’t ever feel like you’re bothering me.”

_“But we’re going to be so busy at the games, and I want to see you but I want you to do well, and are we even going to be allowed to see each other? The team are so wary of the other athletes.”_

“Yien,” Jackson said, ignoring how cute he was finding Yien right now, knowing he shouldn’t be enjoying this but he was, in a masochistic sort of way. “We’ll figure it out okay? I’m worried too but I’ll see you there, even if I need to pretend to be American. I’ll say I’m a badminton player or something. It’s going to be alright.”

 _“I just- I just miss you, that’s all.”_ Yien said, covering his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie, hiding his face but Jackson could tell that Yien was trying to hide the fact he was crying.

“Aikugui,” Jackson said, and he ducked away as Yien swatted at him from behind the screen. “Sorry, sorry. I’d cry too, if i wasn't so tired.”

 _“Don’t lie,”_  Yien said, but he smiled anyway. _“go to sleep you idiot, eat something first.”_

“I won’t sleep yet, but I’ll eat.” Jackson said, picking up his laptop and carrying it into the kitchen. “I feel like chicken, what do you think?”

 _“You had chicken last night,”_ Yien said from Jackson’s arms.

“That makes no difference,” Jackson said, propping his laptop up on the counter. “You can’t stop me Yien, you don’t run my life.”

 _“Not yet,”_  Yien said and Jackson laughed, turning his back as he looked in the fridge, hiding how he was grinning like a fool.

 

 

**jiaer**

**to mark, at 03:48AM**

_i made it_

 

 

**mark**

**to jiaer, at 03:49AM**

_i know_

 

 

**jiaer**

**to mark, at 03:49AM**

_< 3333_

 

 

Jackson had always been close to his brother. He wouldn't go so far as to say he’d been by raised him, but it wouldn't be far off. His mother was away working, and it seemed that whenever she was home she was ill. His dad was often in the mainland, or away at tournaments, or working late, and whenever he was around he never did much with Jackson except train him. Jackson loved his parents, he used to think more than anything, but perhaps that had stemmed from the fact that they’d never really seemed much like parents.

His brother was always the one to make sure he ate his vegetables, and did his homework, who nagged him to make his bed and take the cups down from his bedroom. Too many times had his brother signed his report cards and gone with him to his parents evenings for Jackson to kid himself that his parents had been around a lot when he was a kid.

It had hurt a lot, when his brother moved to Australia. Of course, Jackson had been happy when he’d been accepted into university there, even happier when he got offered a job even before he’d graduated, even happier still that he’d met a girl and settled down. But Jackson missed him. So he threw himself into training, old enough to look after himself now, and soon extended to looking after his mother too. His dad became more of a coach to him, until he found someone else so his father could look after his mum more. Jackson tried not to think about it.

So it meant a lot that his brother had come to visit. He’d be coming to the games but Jackson hadn't expected to see him before then. The last time he’d seen him Jackson’s hair had been blond, and he hadn't met Yien.

Despite the fact that Jackson had been staying in his apartment for the past two years, his brother was staying in a hotel for the three days he’d be in Hong Kong. It was Sunday, and it was raining. Typhoon season had started, and Jackson found himself smiling as he closed up his umbrella as he walked into the restaurant of the hotel.

His brother was sitting at a table, looking out the window, fiddling with his thumbs. His hair was shorter and he was more tanned, but he seemed to have not otherwise changed since Jackson had seen him last, aside from the ring on his left finger. 

He stood as Jackson came over, pulling him into a hug and Jackson let himself feel young for a moment, before pulling back from his brother and back into himself.

“Gaga! You’re twice the size of me now!” his brother said, sitting back down and laughing.

“I’ve been working out,” Jackson said, and his brother laughed again. “mum said you watched the qualifiers.”

“I did, we streamed them, you did so well.” Jackson felt himself start to glow and tried to stop himself laughing. It was something he didn’t really like about himself, that he laughed so much, but sitting across from his brother he wondered if it was a family thing. 

“Are you ‘we’ now?” Jackson asked, laughing as his brother flushed. “I’m happy for you gege, I thought no one would ever be able to put up with you.”

“Don’t you start, I could say the same for you. Have you been seeing anyone?” Jackson hesitated, which was enough for his brother to grow suspicious. “What about that guy, off your Weibo? He’s not Korean is he, congratulations on all your followers by the way, any chance of shout out?”

“No way, and he’s from Taiwan, he lives in California.”

“He’s a gymnast right?” he asked, and Jackson nodded. “I did a bit of stalking, just to see what you’re up to. He’s good looking.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said, wondering what he ought to tell him when the waiter came over. Jackson ordered coffee, ignoring how his brother glared at him when he said he wouldn't have any food.

“Do you only ingest fluids?” his brother said, stirring his tea. “But that’s cute, you’ll see him at the Olympics, how romantic. How long have you been dating?”

Jackson happened to be taking a sip of his tea at the moment, and it took a lot of effort for him not to spit it out all over his brother’s face.

“We’re not- we aren't dating ge,” Jackson said, and his brothers eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

“Really? Mama said you were,” and Jackson felt dread settle in his neck. “and I assumed, from the pictures and the bracelets, and the fact that your lock screen is a photo of him.”

“How did you know about the bracelets?” Jackson asked, only now remembering that they were visible in a photo he’d posted. “and he changed the lock screen himself!”

“Yeah, he might’ve changed it himself, but it’s been what, three months since you’ve seen him? Come on Gaga, if you’re not dating then you’re crushing hardcore. It’s cute.”

“It’s not a crush,” Jackson said, dropping his cheek into his hand. “What am I going to do ge?”

“Well, I’d say you should make out him, but given the circumstances, wait till the games. You both win gold, both get drunk, and _then_ make out with him.”

“Great advice,” Jackson said, rolling his eyes, momentarily sneering before falling back into his crisis. “but he doesn't even like me like that.”

His brother raised a single eyebrow, and stared at Jackson as the waiter returned with Jackson’s coffee, and he didn't look away as Jackson poured in his sugar, waiting for him to speak.

“He deserves better,” Jackson finally said, running his hands through his hair. “but I don’t want him to have better, I want him to have me. I’m a cocky asshole and annoying and loud and think too highly myself, but I just want him, nothing else. I look at him, and somehow I can see us fifty years from now and don’t know where we are or what we’re doing but we’re together. I can’t picture a life without him, hell, I can’t even picture tomorrow without him. It’s scary gege. I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him you idiot,” Jackson’s brother said, leaning forward. “it’s no good saying this to me. By the way, that is one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever said, can you write that down for me so I can put it in my vows?”

Jackson laughed, a little thickly, and his brother grinned.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, examining his cufflink. “will you be my best man?”

And finally, finally, Jackson let himself cry. 

 

 

Despite being so organised, Jinyoung never gave Mark any warning as to when he was going to phone, calling Mark when he was at training, in bed, more than once when he was in the bath. It just so happened that Mark had been at the cinema with some friends from high school, sitting through some shitty action movie with cheesy dialogue and regular explosions when his phone started buzzing against his leg. 

Thankful for the excuse to leave, Mark stood up and pressed out of the packed row, ignoring how he gave every other person an involuntary lap dance, pulling his phone out as he took the stairs two at a time, picking up as he pushed out into the dim hallway. 

“Jinyoungie,” Mark said, lapsing into Korean as he leant against the wall, between posters for movies that came out months ago. “would it kill you to give me some warning?”

 _“I have more important things to think about than your schedule, Mark Tuan,”_ Jinyoung said, forcing Mark back into English, still barely accented, and Mark could practically see his glare. _“besides, you probably weren't even doing anything important.”_

“I was at the cinema, and be thankful it was on silent, your ringtone is still that dumb song you set it to last year.”

 _“Dumb song?”_  Jinyoung said, gasping. _“The Backstreet Boys are the epitome of class.”_

“Just because Howie was your sexual awakening doesn't make them classy. Besides, this isn't Korea, people know this song, and they know how weird you are for liking it.”

 _“Shut up Tuan,”_ Jinyoung said. _“Anyway, enough about me. How’s California been treating you since we last spoke?”_

“Same old same old,” Mark said, sliding down the wall to sit on the ancient carpet with his legs sticking out. “coach has been up my ass, got some more drug tests next week, and they’re taking blood to test me for HIV too which is wonderful.”

 _“Just cause you refused to put your sexuality down on the form? That’s bullshit.”_  Jinyoung said, and Mark nodded. _“Speaking of sexuality, did you hear about Youngjae?”_

“No? Is he alright?”

 _“Better than alright,”_ Jinyoung said, and Mark knew he was grinning. _“his coffee shop guy finally spoke to him, they’ve been texting. Nothing definite yet, but things are getting flirtier.”_

“Good for him,” Mark said, fiddling with the rip in his jeans. “I’ll have to text him later. And Yugyeom’s well?”

 _“I think so, from what I’ve seen of him.”_  Jinyoung said, voice losing some of it’s laughter. _“They want me to hold a viewing party for the games anyway, Wham-Wham has a friend that does something that he wants to watch, rowing, fencing, diving maybe? Something with an ing. Gyeom's getting on with that kid Boom like a house on fire, I think they’re gonna move in together after summer ends.”_

“And you’re alright?”

 _“No,”_  Jinyoung said cheerily. _“but it doesn't matter anyway. It’s fine, he’s making him happy. So that’s making me happy, I guess. What’s happening with that guy, the one you tutored with?”_

Mark sighed, letting the subject be changed. Jinyoung broke his heart a little bit.

“I’m in love with him,” Mark said, and was thankful when Jinyoung screamed, knowing he was sufficiently distracted. “and before you say anything, you never asked, so don’t blame me for not saying anything.”

_“I’d have thought you’d have brought it up! And what, he’s in university here and you’re gone? What’s going to happen, hyung, tell me his name so I can find him.”_

“He’s not in Korea right now, he’s back in Hong Kong,” Mark said, not telling Jinyoung why exactly. “I’ve not thought about it much. Everything depends on how I do at the games. If I do well, I’ll probably get some sponsorships, do some touring and promotions, train and compete more. If not, well, I’ll see what they do with me.”

_“And you’ll stay in California?”_

“I don’t want to,” Mark said, tugging at his bracelet. “I’ll speak with coach, and again it depends on the results, but I think I want to move back to Taiwan.”

 _“Why?”_ Jinyoung asked, knowing he wasn't going to get a full answer right now.

“Well my parents are heading back in the fall, since Joey’s going to college in Argentina it doesn't really matter where my parents are. Even Tammy’s thinking about heading back there, her husband moves so much for work that it might be easier for her to be closer to our parents. Plus, the international schools are really good, and Grace has been settled there for years anyway.”

 _“Huh,”_ Jinyoung said. _“but what about you? What do you want?”_

“Los Angeles has never really been home anyway.”

_“And where does your guy fit into all this?”_

“I don’t know Jin. He’s in it. No matter what I think I should do, he’s the biggest factor. That sounds bad. Taiwan would be closer to him, but it’s still far. Still not close enough.”

_“Well hyung, I’d give you advice, but maybe you shouldn't take relationship advice from me.”_

“What am I going to do Jinyoungie?”

_“Only god knows. And maybe Yugyeom.”_

 

 

The doctor’s office was quiet. Mark leant back in his seat and it creaked, causing a few people to look up and Mark to bury deeper into his hoodie. There were a few other athletes still there, but most of them had gone home already, hoping to get it out of the way so they could go back to training, but Mark had taken the opportunity to call Jiaer the night before, so he was too tired to train anyway. It was late now, he’d been waiting for hours, and it had been past four o’clock by the time they got to Mark with all the tests everyone had to go through, and he felt his eyes drawing closed as he sat.

The bloodwork had gone fine, the nurses not saying anything when they were told to take more samples. Mark hadn't offered anything either, just thought of Jiaer and tried not to seem bothered. Now he was just waiting for a notice to say whether he was in the clear or would need more tests. 

His leg shook, an empty coffee cup gripped in his hands, arm still aching from the needles. It was probably early afternoon in Hong Kong, and Jiaer would be getting on his break at training. Mark pulled out his phone and called Jiaer against his will. It rang three times before it clicked through. 

_“Baobei? Is everything okay? Has your medical come through yet?”_

“Not yet.” Mark said, ignoring how people looked over at him, only noticing him when he wasn't speaking English. “I’m waiting now, it’s taking longer than I thought.”

_“That’s not bad though? You’re alright? Nothing’s wrong?”_

“I don’t _feel_ like there’s anything wrong with me,” Mark said, and Jiaer sighed. Mark went to say something when a nurse came out of the door leading into the labs.

“Tuh- Toowan? Mark Yeye- Yeay- Yeen? Mark Yeeayn Too- Tuayan…”

Mark stood up before he could butcher his name any further and the nurse walked over to him.

“They’re just giving me my results now, hold on a sec Gaga,” Mark said, clutching the phone in his hands as the nurse came over, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you’ve not got HIV, so that’s good,” he said, flipping a sheet of paper over his clipboard, and Mark winced at the volume. “You’re not on any drugs either, and you don’t seem to have any other problems. Iron count lower than average, indicates a deficiency which is a little unusual, but you were aware of that already?

Mark shook his head and the nurse tutted. 

"Eat some more meat, take some supplements, don’t be an idiot. Just keep an eye on that, but aside from that you’re in the clear. Your forms are all sorted, so you can go now.”

Mark nodded, standing up and pressing the phone back to his ear.

“Did you hear that?” Mark said, walking out of the office, trying to ignore how people watched his retreating figure.

 _“Yien what’s that supposed to mean?”_  Jiaer said, obviously having heard what the nurse said. _“Iron deficient? You promised me you were eating.”_

“I am! I don’t know where that came from, I’ll just take the stuff from the packets they sell at the drug store.”

 _“You shouldn't be deficient in the first place,”_ Jiaer said softly. _“promise me you’ll eat more?”_

“I promise,” Mark said, pausing in the hallway. “I’ll let you get back, I have the morning off tomorrow so call me later tonight?”

 _“Okay,”_  Jiaer said, reluctant. _“get some rest, please Yien.”_

“If you insist,” Mark said, and Jiaer made a happy little noise down the line. “remember to call me later?”

_“Yien, I’d forget every single one of my names before I forget to call you. I’ll see you soon.”_

Mark smiled, hanging up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and leaving the hospital, skin tingling and something warm in his back.

 

 

The rain was pouring down Jackson’s back as he collapsed into his apartment. The rain had started just as Jackson walked down into the subway station, but by the time he came back up it was pummelling into the ground, and Jackson had ran all the way back home. It was the middle of June now, and every other day there was a downpour of rain that felt more like a bombing than anything else. This was one of those days.

Jackson kicked off his shoes, peeling off his t-shirt and jeans, and leaving them in a heap by the washing machine. He wrapped himself in a towel, sticking on the kettle and fetching his laptop as he waited. 

He set it up next to him as he fiddled with teabags, opening up Skype. Yien was active. He clicked the call button, a familiar bubble rising around his tonsils as the kettle came to the boil. The call connected through as jackson was pouring his tea, and he crouched down to show his face to the webcam instead of his bare torso.

“Yien,” Jackson said, waving at the screen. “I almost drowned.”

 _“You what?”_  Yien replied, laughing. He was sitting in bed, as always, wrapped up in a jumper and looking softer than anything Jackson had ever seen. 

 _“In the rain?”_ he asked and Jackson nodded. _“I miss rain.”_

 _“_ Come to Hong Kong,” Jackson said, grinning and standing back up, angling the screen so his face was shown, but his upper body still dominated the view. Jackson was only vaguely self conscious of the way it was obvious to the camera, and was likely all Yien could see right now. 

 _“I’m tempted,”_  Yien replied, and Jackson felt himself smiling, again, against his will.

“I spoke to coach today,” Jackson said, dropping in a teabag with a flourish. “about my schedule at the games. I’ll have the events and the odd interview, and training obviously, but since all my events are the one day I’ll just be hanging about a lot.”

Yien hummed as Jackson continued, and he could see out the corner of his eye the way he was pulling on his bracelet.

“He was saying they’ve made the family blocks really big, so I have like eight allocated seats. They’ll probably get taken by other competitors families if I don’t say anything. I thought I’d just need four, for mum and dad, and then ge and his fiancée.”

 _“And me,”_ Yien said, and Jackson felt something surge up in him and bubble into his head.

“Do you want to come?” Jackson said, avoiding looking at the webcam and meeting Yien’s eyes. “I thought maybe you’d want to spend time with your family, or go watch the individual gymnastics, they’re on the same day.”

_“My parents are going to see the big statue on the cliff, you know the one? And Joey and Grace are only coming out for the floor finals, since there’s so much time between events. Tammy and the girls might go see animals or something, I can come watch you.”_

“Are you sure? I have three more tickets still, you could bring your sister if you want.”

 _“I’ll ask her, but I’m watching you no matter what.”_  Yien said, and Jackson almost dropped his tea. He picked up his laptop and held it against his chest, tea in one hand as he wobbled through to his bedroom. 

 _“We’ve got a huge block too, it’s for all the team’s families, but I'm sure we can squeeze you in.”_  Yien said from Jackson’s stomach. _“Just go in with my family, you know what Americans are like, no one’ll question you with so many people already there.”_

“They won’t mind, your family? They barely know me.”

 _“They practically do, with how much I talk about you,”_  Yien said, and Jackson felt his face heat as he laughed. _“besides, it’s not about them. I want you there.”_

“Okay,” Jackson said, holding his tea in between his palms with his laptop balanced on his knees. “I’ll scream so you know I’m there okay?”

 _“You’re so embarrassing,”_  Yien said, but the look on his face said he didn't really mind. _“How long is it now?”_

“Forty two days,” Jackson replied, staring into his tea. “forty one for me.”

 _“That’s not fair,”_  Yien said, whining. _“you have less waiting time than me!”_

“Yeah but that’s only cause I’ve had more time without you.” Jackson said, indignant. “It’s maths Yien, don’t question it.”

 _“Excuse me, our team came second in the Southern California Mathlete finals.”_  Yien said, and Jackson burst out laughing, Yien joining him. _“Fine, fine, I’ll accept the math. Forty two days. One thousand and eight hours. That’s nothing.”_

“You’re amazing Yien,” Jackson said, yawning. “Human calculator. I never liked maths.”

 _“I know you didn't,”_  Yien said, smirking. _“you spent twenty minutes trying to convince me two multiplied by zero was two.”_

“It’s a common mistake!” Jackson said, tea sloshing as he raised his arms. “Not all of us are as wonderful as you.”

 _“Flattery will get you nowhere,”_  Yien said, monotone but blushing. 

“So forty two days. Not long at all.” Jackson said, reaching his hand out to his screen, absentmindedly running his thumb over where Yien’s cheek was shown, blurry and buffering. “And then we’re together.”

 _“Together,”_  Yien hummed closing his eyes, settling back into his bed. Neither of them said anything and Jackson watched as Yien’s breathing grew steadier, his face smooth and calm. 

“Together,” Jackson said quietly. “Always.”

He ended the call, closing his laptop and holding his empty mug in his hands, listening to the cars outside under the sound of the rain shattering against his window, and tried not to think about how much he missed Yien. He tried.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yugyeom?? he's doing things. i don't know what. i probably should. aikugui means like crybaby, and this is also the worst thing i've ever written, i've just been so shook by the comeback i'm such a mess. 
> 
> leave a comment if u want!!


	9. chapter nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is so long what, i'm so sorry this is t er rible but we're going for it, this has also not been proofread like at a l l so comment if u see unforgivable mistakes

It was late when the plane landed in Rio. Mark shuffled off, blearily making his way through immigration with the rest of his teammates, and collecting his team issued bags, dumping them on a trolley and wheeling them out to the waiting coach. The reporters were mainly focused on the basketball players arriving with them, but Mark kept his hood pulled up anyway.

After throwing his bags into the holding area, he staggered up the steps, collapsing into a seat halfway down the empty bus, leaning his head against the window and pulling out his phone, opening up his text messages. 

Jiaer had been here for two days already, needing more time to recover what with the eleven hour time difference and day long journey it took to get to Rio. Mark sent a message saying he’d landed and went back to leaning against the window.

He’d not been to Brazil since he was a kid, but the air settled around him in a familiar way, like a relative you’d only met a few times when you were young, but who was family nonetheless. The familiar smell of humidity and the ocean in the distance had overtaken Mark in a way that meant he needed to catch his breath once he’d gotten onto the bus, but the bright colours and rapid Portuguese in the airport hadn't been as unfamiliar as he’d thought they’d be.

His phone buzzed in his hand, Jiaer replying with a row of heart emojis. Mark typed out a reply, tucking his phone back into his pocket, closing his eyes as the rest of the athletes trickled onto the bus, asleep before they’d started the engine.

 

 

He woke with a start as they pulled to a stop, then started up again as they passed through the barriers separating the village from the rest of the Olympic park. The bus rolled through and Mark looked out the window, at the setting sun and the sky that looked like an oil painting, flags of every nation staring out against the tall grey buildings where the athletes were to live. 

The bus pulled to a stop, and they all clambered out, Mark grabbing his bag and walking with the rest of his teammates in exhausted silence to the only building without anything hanging from it. They’d been told not to hang any American flags in case it made them a target, but now they stood out even more, being the only bare building left in the village. Mark looked around for the Hong Kong flag, but his head was starting to ache so he focused on walking in a straight line.

They hung around the reception hall as they were given guidelines to the village but Mark had already heard it all back in Los Angeles, and there was to be a bigger meeting in the morning when more of them arrived, so Mark focused on the floor, drifting off after his teammates as they headed to their apartment.

Mark squeezed into the elevator with the rest of them, crushed between luggage and his teammates, and he closed his eyes for the moment he had to stand still. The doors opened and Mark turned to go before getting pulled back by someone, and he looked back in confusion, realising he’d gone to step out when they hadn't even gone up yet, doors only opening to let a few more passengers squeeze on. Mark would’ve laughed if he hadn't been so tired.

His heart had not slowed down ever since they landed in Rio, beating hard against his chest, so hard he could feel it in his neck, his eyes, his mouth, his stomach, to the point where he was could visibly see his pulse pounding in his throat in the reflection of the elevator door. He felt like every nerve in his body was electrified, from the soles of his feet all the way up to the crown of his head. His stomach was surging like an ocean in a storm, and he found himself blinking more than he usually would, trying to clear his mind to remind himself that this wasn't a dream, that not only was he at the Olympics, but _he was going to see Jiaer again._

The elevator came to a stop and Mark waited till he was sure it was their floor before walking out. Their apartment was on the twelfth floor, split into three bedrooms, a kitchenette, lounge room and two bathrooms, with a balcony overlooking the lawn in the centre of the village, and Mark could see people milling about below. He immediately dumped his bag on the floor and made a beeline to the shower, to the annoyance of his teammates.

He was in there for less than two minutes, not stopping to let the water soothe his aching muscles, stepping out and towel drying his hair, pulling on the first t-shirt and pair of jeans he pulled from his case, cramming his feet into his shoes and grabbing his phone, saying to the room that he’d be back later, and was answered with a groan from someone lying facedown on the floor.

Mark stepped out, padding down the corridor, and he could hear music coming from some of the rooms down the hall, and there were people milling about in the seating area by the elevators. He ignored them, dialling Jiaer’s number as he stood outside to wait for the elevator. He picked up as the doors opened, and there were already a few people there as Mark stepped in, turning around and smiling as Jiaer spoke.

_“Yien, oh my god, are you here?”_

“Yeah,” Mark said, “where are you right now?”

_“I was in my room,”_ Jiaer said, and Mark could hear some thudding in the background. _“I’m in the hallway now.”_

“Don’t rush, you might fall, I’m not going anywhere,” Mark said, grinning. He could feel the other people in the elevator looking at him, but at this point, Mark had stopped caring. “Where do you want to meet me?”

_“Uh, the American building is in the centre right? Just come out and walk straight on, onto the big lawn bit, head into the middle, we’re across the way from you so I’ll see you there alright?”_  Jiaer’s voice was moving up and down and echoing slightly, presumably running down the stairs.

“I’ll see you soon,” Mark said, and he resisted the urge to start jumping up and down in the middle of the elevator. 

_“Christ, yeah, see you soon Yien,”_ Jiaer said, hanging up, and Mark put his phone back in his pocket, stepping out of the elevator, muttering apologies as he pushed through the women’s table tennis team.

He pushed out the doors, heat hitting him with a thud, the sky turning purple as the sun set behind the mountains in the distance. Mark jogged onto the lawn, past what seemed to be hundreds of people milling about but only hearing his erratic heartbeat and poorly controlled breathing as he scanned the crowd, bordering on frantic, entire being shaking as he tried to look for Jiaer. He was close to calling him again when his eyes focused in on something to his left side, body shifting before he thought about it. Jiaer.

He froze as Jiaer looked at him, meeting his eyes, breath catching in his throat and Jiaer smiled in the way that made every inch of him glow like a star. His legs moved of their own accord, and Mark was pushing past people, throwing out random apologies, stopping a little in front of Jiaer as he got closer. 

“Jiaer,” he breathed out, feeling more exhausted than he had in all the time he’d been away from him, exhausted with the feeling of finally being here, in front of the one person he loved, not thousands of miles away, not separated by timezones or the grainy screen of a Skype call, real and solid, and breathing, and laughing, and making his way towards Mark.

Mark threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around Jiaer’s neck, feeling everything in him loosen against Jiaer as he felt him wrap his arms around him, Jiaer’s face pressed into the side of his neck, fingers bunched in the thin fabric of Mark’s t-shirt. Laughter, clear as day, rang in his ear as he buried his face into Jiaer’s neck, feeling his hair brushing against his cheek, and he breathed deep to hold back tears.

“Missed you,” Jiaer says, pulling him closer. “all the damn time.”

Mark just nodded because if words in general were difficult for him, putting what he felt right now into words was unthinkable, and Mark let his mind race as he felt his insides steady.

Mark can remember every minute they were apart, every late night conversation, every cup of coffee he drank at midnight to stay awake, every missed call and moments where he would turn around to speak to Jiaer only to be crushed as he remembered he wasn't there, every second without Jiaer, every evening he came home to an empty apartment and a cell phone full of messages. It’s an ache in his body, like he’d just gone through three days of training without a break, but he can feel every painful moment being replaced, being smoothed over by Jiaer’s presence, Jiaer who was here, who was here now, who was home now.

In a way it feels like Mark is meeting him again for the first time, now with the knowledge that he was in love with him, hyperaware of every detail of him. The smell of smoke hits him first, the sharp heady cologne Jiaer always wore settling against Mark’s nose, the tang of mint and cotton following after, and Mark felt everything in him falling back into line. 

In a way it feels like Mark is falling in love with him all over again.

He can feel Jiaer’s mouth pressed against the exposed skin of his neck, can feel him mouthing words into his skin and all he can think about now is how Jiaer is here, standing in his arms, smelling like home. He’s here, with him, his Jiaer is right here.

And Yien cries.

Mark could feel Jiaer rubbing circles into the small of his back, and Mark pulled back slightly but Jiaer pressed their foreheads together, laughing deeply, eyes shut for a long moment. He opened them and Mark inhaled, Jiaer’s eyes shining, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, lips spread into a smile and it takes so much for Mark not to pull him back closer to him. 

Jiaer kept one arm on Mark’s back, bringing his other hand up to rest on Mark’s cheek, running his thumb across his cheekbone and wiping off the tears that were catching there.

“You’ll make me cry,” Jiaer said, blinking rapidly, and Mark laughed, shaky, pulling back and bending slightly, leaning his forehead against Jiaer’s chest, just above his heart. Jiaer pressed his lips to the top of Mark’s head, before tilting down to bury his face in it, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of his hair.

They stayed like that for a while, but Mark was growing increasingly aware of the number of people around the two of them, so he pulled back, Jiaer’s arms still around his waist. 

“Let me look at you,” he said in response to the whining noise Jiaer made when Mark pulled back.

“Looking at you is all I’ve been able to do for the past six months,” Jiaer said, pouting, but he pulled his arms back, slinging one over Mark’s shoulders instead. “People are looking at us, and you must be hungry, c’mon.”

Jiaer pulled Mark down towards where the restaurants, shops, and cafes all were, and subsequently dragged Mark into one. It felt so familiar, to be standing in a queue in a coffee shop with Jiaer, that Mark would've thought they had barely been apart at all, if it weren't for the brick lodged in his throat, his burning skin, and the feeling that he were about to cry. 

Jiaer went to order, but Mark stepped forward to do it himself, ordering for the both of them with his ancient memories of Portuguese, thankful that his parents had made him keep it up after they moved to America. 

The cashier gave him an appreciative smile, and Mark could feel Jiaer looking at him. He felt his neck heating, but when he met Jiaer’s eyes as they went to wait for their drinks, the look was more of awe and borderline adoration, and Mark had to look away. 

It was relatively busy, dimly lit with dozens of small tables packed into the room. Jiaer picked up Mark’s drink before he could, and carried it over to a table, and Mark wouldn't admit he was thankful, as his hands were practically shaking.

They sat across from each other but Jiaer hooked his foot around Mark’s ankle, and Mark leant across to clasp one of Jiaer’s hands in his own. His grip was tight, arms more defined than they used to be, skin more golden, making the gold of his bracelet seem pale in comparison. Mark felt something shift as he saw Jiaer was wearing the bracelet, despite the fact he’d seen him wearing it over the video calls, and he was reminded of the fact that this time, being with Jiaer was different. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Mark finally said, smiling slightly, and Jiaer softened.

“Don’t say anything Yien. I’m sorry for dragging you out here, you should be sleeping, you look exhausted. I’d have waited till tomorrow to see you but…”

“Don’t apologise,” Mark said, tightening his hold on Jiaer’s hand. his skin was rough and callused, and Mark’s fingers looked so thin in Jiaer’s hand, wrapped around them. “I wouldn't have been able to sleep, knowing you were so close. You look tired too.”

“Ah, I’m still a little jetlagged,” Jiaer said, running a hand through his hair in a way that made Mark smile again. “And I’ve been sleeping on the couch in the dorm anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“There’s two bedrooms in our apartment, and I’m sharing with this cyclist, and he’s had a girl over both nights we’ve been here, and from what I’ve heard it’s gonna be the same every night.”

“Are you kidding?” Mark said, fighting the urge to laugh. “I know you said it’d be like this, but god Jiaer, that’s terrible. I’m sharing a room with Danell, the bar guy? We’ve talked about it already, he’s got a thing with someone from the Russian team so he’s not gonna be around.”

“You lucky bastard,” Jiaer said, and Mark laughed. “Well, I was in an elevator with Usain Bolt this morning, so I guess we’re even.”

“What?” Mark said, half shouting, and Jiaer laughed, both oblivious to the people around them. “Just stay with me on the nights he’s got people over.”

Mark took a moment to process what he’d just said, realising he ought to have thought it through, but in the time of Jiaer’s stunned silence, Mark thought it through, and realised that despite the fact he’d spend an unhealthy amount of time watching the guy sleep, he wouldn't want anything else.

“Are you sure?” Jiaer finally said, taking Mark’s other hand. “What’ll your team think?”

“Well,” Mark said, trying not to stutter. “They’ll all be doing their own stuff. They probably won’t ask, they’ll just assume- well I’ll just tell them why, if they ask.”

“If you’re sure,” Jiaer said, staring at Mark. “but not tonight, you need to sleep. I’ll deal with the couch another night.”

“Fine, but don’t complain to me about your sore back in the morning,” Yien said, rolling his eyes. “Tell me more about Usain Bolt.”

 

 

The water burned as it poured down Jackson’s back, his head resting against the tiled wall, eyes closed and mind filled with the thrum of the water drowning out all other sounds.

The hot water had been broken in Jackson’s apartment since they arrived, but now that he was gonna be staying at Mark’s most nights, he might as well take advantage of the fact that everything in the American building seemed to be working just fine.

He’d been in there for a while, and after being away from Yien for so long, he was reluctant to even have Yien out of sight for more than a minute. They’d had things to do today, Yien getting shown around the facilities with his team and practicing, and Jackson had interviews and training all day too. He’d met with Yien after dinner, and they’d spent some time in the gym together before Jackson grabbed some stuff from his room, going with Yien back to his dorm.

It was late now, and Jackson felt the tiredness in him as he stepped out the shower. He towel dried his hair but it was only after he pulled on his boxers he realised he’d forgotten a shirt. He usually slept shirtless at home, but he felt like he ought to wear one around Yien.

Jackson threw a towel around his neck, stepping out of the bathroom and walking straight into someone standing outside. Jackson made a noise bordering on a squeal, never one to be embarrassed of his body but blushing nonetheless. The guy smiled however, reaching a hand out towards Jackson.

“You’re Jeerar right?” he asked slowly, and Jackson winced at the pronunciation of his name.

“Just Jackson is fine,” Jackson said, shaking the guys outstretched hand.

“You speak English?” he asked, eyes wide. “Mark never mentioned that.”

“Gaga,” Yien called from his room in Mandarin, stopping Jackson from replying. “come to bed.”

“Just a minute Yien,” Jackson called, smiling at the guy in front of him.

“I forget he’s not American,” he said, shifting where he stood. “like I know he is, but he’s not y’know?”

Jackson nodded, smiling as he stepped out of the guys way and padding towards Yien’s room.

“See you around Jackson,” the guy called and Jackson waved over his shoulder, opening the door to Yien’s room and closing it behind him, leaning back on the door. Yien looked up from the bed, eyes lingering on Jackson’s body, before looking back down at his phone, biting his lip.

“You never said your teammates were still kicking about, I feel like an exhibitionist!” 

“You wouldn't feel like that if you put on a shirt,” Yien said, teasing but still not looking up. His glasses were perched on his nose, thick black frames making him seem even smaller, and Jackson fought the urge to smile.

“I forgot one,” Jackson said, whining. “baobei, let me borrow one of yours.”

“Fine,” Yien said, standing up and turning away from Jackson. “but only if you stop trying to act cute.”

“Acting?” Jackson said, waving his arms. “I would never!”

Yien just snorted, rummaging through his drawers and pulling out a vest, chucking it over his shoulder, Jackson catching it mid air.

“It’s a bit big on me, so it should fit you fine.” Yien said as Jackson pulled it on. The fabric was soft on his skin, and Jackson tried not think about how it had smelled like Yien as he had pulled it over his head, like the ocean, and dryer sheets, and freshly ground coffee, and his cologne, and his skin after he’d been out in the sun for a while, like everything Jackson had never known he’d never had. 

“Thanks,” Jackson said, coughing, flopping onto his bed, lying on his stomach for a moment before rolling over on his side to face Yien.

“You’re so far away,” he said, stretching out his hands and pouting, before pulling his lip back in at Yien’s eye roll. 

“Just pull the beds together you dummy,” Yien said, again looking away from Jackson. He sighed as he stood up, nudging the bed with his knees until it was up against Yien’s, even now the narrow beds barely forming a double. Jackson dropped back down on his back, arms folded behind his head, looking up at Yien, tempted to reach out and touch him.

“You look cute,” Jackson said, and Yien looked down at him, startled. “in your glasses. Cute.”

“Don’t lie,” Yien said, taking them off and setting them on the nightstand next to him, turning off the lamp and lying back down beside Jackson.

“I would never,” Jackson gasped, clutching his chest in mock offence. He found his breathing to be slightly irregular, and he could feel his heart hammering against his wrist at Yien being so close. Though they were under separate covers, Jackson pressed his eyes closed, trying to remain calm at being so close to Yien.

“Goodnight, Jiaer.”

“Goodnight Yien,” Jackson said as he felt Yien roll over onto his stomach, head tilted to face Jackson. He could feel Yien’s breathing grow deeper next to him, and Jackson let his mind fall into sleep, feeling calmer than he had in months.

 

 

Jackson had slept better than he felt he ever had these past few nights. A routine was slowly forming, and Jackson couldn't deny that the idea of spending every night with Yien was one that he’d thought about often. The opening ceremony was tomorrow, and both of their families were arriving, and that would only mean less time spent together than they already were. Their days were spent with training and practicing, team meetings, press interviews, but the knowledge that Jackson would be going back to Yien at night made all the activity just that little bit more bearable.

Jackson had always been a relatively restless sleeper, waking up often throughout the night, but that hadn't happened while he’d been in Rio with Yien, not until tonight.

He felt himself falling out of his sleep, opening his eyes and pausing for a minute, letting them readjust to the dark. He was unaware of where he was for a moment, as one often is upon waking, but as his vision came back to him, he froze.

Yien had always been the first to wake up, Jackson waking just after him, or Yien would wake him, shaking him gently, rousing him from sleep so they could go to breakfast.

Jackson felt warmth surrounding him despite the blast of the air conditioning throughout the night. He looked down, and inhaled, Yien’s face registering immediately, and Jackson tried to calm his heart. 

He was tucked in between Jackson’s arms, pressed close to him, breath tickling against the delicate skin of Jackson's neck, hair grazing his cheekbones, one of his hands resting on Jackson’s chest, the other arm thrown over Jackson’s torso and resting up next to his head. Jackson’s arms were wrapped around Yien’s waist, and Jackson could feel that their legs were wrapped around each other, feet interlocked.

Jackson tried to remain calm, partly to stop himself from freaking out but also so as to not wake Yien. He looked down and tried to make out Yien’s features.

He was tinged blue under the haze of the dark, and Jackson’s eyes passed over the slope of his nose, eyebrows furrowed, lips plush and lax in his sleep. His eyelashes were pressed against his cheekbones, and Jackson felt himself sigh as he watched him. During the day, Jackson had to ensure that he didn't look too long at Yien, but now, he stared unabashedly, taking in every tiny detail in Yien’s face, looking at him for god knows how long.

Yien shifted in his sleep, tilting his face down further so his mouth was pressed to Jackson’s neck, and Jackson felt his pulse quicken even further. He snuffled slightly in his sleep, and Jackson pulled him closer without thinking about it.

He could feel his eyes growing heavy once again, and Jackson relaxed, dropping a kiss to the top of Yien’s head, closing his eyes again and drifting back off to sleep, silently wishing that the night would last longer than it already did, so he could stay there, with Yien, just that little bit longer.

 

 

Breakfast had been quiet the next day, not that Jackson minded. He’d woken up after Yien, as usual, Yien waking him after he showered so they could go down. He’d been quieter this morning than he had been in the days previous, but more clingy, walking to breakfast with his arm around Yien’s waist, sitting next to him rather than across, settling his head in the crook of Yien’s neck.

They’d split up after eating, each going to train with their respective teams, Yien training more given that his qualifiers started on the first day, meeting up mid afternoon. Jackson’s family had arrived late that night, and were planning on seeing him at the designated area for families when they arrived, but Jiaer had convinced them to get some rest. Yien’s sister and his nieces had arrived with his parents that morning, and Jackson, never one to bypass an opportunity to be with Yien, had arranged to see his parents at the same time as Yien.

Jackson had to admit he felt nervous, not about seeing his family again, it’d barely been a week since he’d seen them last. No, he was nervous about what they’d think of Yien, if they’d like him, if they’d approve of him, if they’d think he was even a fraction of how wonderful Jackson thought he was. But then, if they did think he was even a fraction of how wonderful Jackson thought he was, they’d adore him, and all Jackson needed was for them to like him.

Jackson loved his family, and he was sure they’d accept Yien, and love him as their own, but he had to admit, despite how important his family was to him, if they didn't like Yien, if they thought he was a bad influence, if they insisted he stopped seeing him and forced him to decide between seeing Yien or his family, he wasn't sure he’d choose his family. 

They met up after training at the exit of the village, and Jackson made small talk, Yien laughing at everything he said, hands brushing together as they walked. They drifted apart as they came closer, till there was a metre of space between them as they walked in. Jackson saw his parents immediately, turning to look at Yien. Jackson raised his eyebrows slightly but Yien nodded, smiling, and Jackson smiled back, both walking over to meet with Jackson’s family.

They stood up as he came over, and he hugged his parents and brother, pausing before his fiancee, but she rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug. Yien hung back, posture awkward and looking slightly confused from all of the Cantonese, but Jackson’s parents turned to him, eyes welcoming. Yien looked over to Jackson, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, and Jackson understood him to be asking whether or not to speak in Mandarin. Jackson nodded slightly, and Yien relaxed, bowing low and introducing himself to Jackson’s parents, who beamed, his mother immediately pulling him into a hug and patting his face.

Jackson stood back next to his brother’s fiancee and watched as his family fawned over Yien, his mother enjoying being able to speak in Mandarin, his father looking on approvingly. His brother was laughing at something, patting Yien on his back, and Jackson could feel something rising inside him that felt a lot like pride. Unbeknownst to Jackson, his sister-in-law next to him was smirking up at him, watching his expression.

“He’s gorgeous,” she said from next to him, and Jackson nodded, not looking away from Yien. “he’s not gonna tell you, but he’s scared shitless right now, you know that right?”

“Scared?” Jackson said, looking away for a moment. “Why would he be scared?”

“Family is so important to your brother, and to you too.” she said, sighing, still watching the interactions between the four of them. “I knew it before I met you guys, and he’ll have figured it out too. There’s always the fear that they’re not gonna like you, and you’ll value their opinions so much you’ll leave. It’s irrational, but you’ll feel the same about meeting his family too. You two have the benefit of speaking the same language at least, but the two of you won’t have the same advantages we had.”

Jackson went to question what she said, but she raised a hand before he could speak.

“Your brother told me everything, don’t pretend Gaga.”

“I was just going to say your Cantonese has improved,” Jackson said, and she laughed, swatting at him. “and anyway, I love you all, but I’d choose him every time. Every time. I would.”

She didn't reply, smiling quietly before walking over to Jackson’s brother, and he slotted an arm around her waist, pulling her close without seeming to think about it, continuing to ask Yien about college as she settled her head into his side. Jackson walked over too, standing in between his mother and Yien, and though he knew he couldn't wrap his arm around Yien so easily, he felt his weight shift in Jackson’s direction, knowing that’d have to be enough right now.

They spoke for a while, before Yien’s phone started buzzing in his pocket, and he apologised before picking up. He spoke for a moment, in Hokkien which made Jackson smile for no reason at all, hanging up before saying that his family would be there in a minute. 

 

They spoke for another moment, before Yien turned at the exact time a little girl started yelling.

“Uncle Mark!” she cried as she came stumbling in, and Yien jogged over, scooping her up into his arms. 

“Kylie! Where did you leave everyone?” Jackson heard Yien say, knowing he was smiling.

“She ran away,” Jackson heard a woman say and from the way Yien hugged her she must’ve been his sister. She laughed and so did Yien, and for a moment they looked so similar that Jackson felt something jerk in his stomach. 

An older couple followed in behind them, and a man pushing an empty buggy, with who Jackson assumed to be Leila toddling along beside him, holding on to the leg of his jeans. Mark hugged the two of them, pulling the man into a one armed hug, bending down and picking up the little girl in his other arm, holding the two laughing girls, one in each arm, and spinning in a circle with the two of them.

He looked over, making eye contact with Jackson, grinning and jogging over, swooping the two girls through the air, who shrieked and giggled, to the amusement of onlookers.

Yien didn’t say anything, just held an arm out to Jackson, who took a girl from one of his arms, feeling panic rise in his chest as he hitched the girl onto his hip, looking at her smiling face.

“Seattle!” she said, giggling and patting his face.

“Los Angeles!” he said, and she laughed even harder.

“It’s not Seattle,” she said, face serious. “Mama showed me in a book.”

“Where am I from then?” he asked, and she pouted.

“I can’t remember, but it sounds like gong.”

“Close enough,” he said, and she giggled again, settling into Jackson’s shoulder. He looked up, and saw what seemed to be Mark’s entire family staring at him, and they all wore the same smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Jiaer,” Yien’s sister said, and Jackson shook her hand, holding the little girl tight with his other arm. “and thanks for getting her to speak Mandarin!”

Jackson laughed, shaking hands with Yien’s parents and brother in law, exchanging polite conversation before turning and glaring at his family, jerking his head in Yien’s direction, and they dutifully came over, introducing themselves to Yien’s parents, his brother looking horrified in the background as his fiancee cooed over the girl in Yien’s arms, immediately speaking to Yien's sister about the girls. Yien's brother-in-law laughed, saying something to Jackson’s brother which made his face fall even further.

Jackson’s eyes met Yien’s over their families, and he walked over to him, introducing himself to the other little girl, who gave him a sleepy smile. Yien ran his hand over her hair, pulling her into his chest where she immediately closed her eyes. Jackson felt something horribly like adoration in his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but smile at Yien as they stood slightly apart from their families, his mind doing strange things at the sight of Yien with a baby. 

And again, Jackson didn't try to fight it, just let himself be overwhelmed with how fucking in love he was, with Yien, with Yien always.

 

 

Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea for Mark to go out the night before his first event at the Olympics, but he’d done it anyway. The opening ceremony had been exciting, but long, and he was on edge the whole time, constantly looking around to get a glimpse of Jiaer as they watched the other countries file in, the United States going early enough for Mark to be seated, and to watch the entrance on the big screen, looking for Jiaer’s familiar figure in the crowds.

He’d gotten texts from Youngjae and Jinyoung saying that they’d watched it together, both in Seoul to meet with their professors for their final year, meeting up with Yugyeom to look for Mark on the TV. They’d found him quickly, taken embarrassing photos, and then turned it off. Mark sent back various emojis before turning off his phone and going back to watching for Jiaer. 

He’d cheered unnecessarily loud when Hong Kong passed through, his teammates joining in, all having grown fond of Jiaer after having him about the place for the past few days. He picked Jiaer out almost immediately after they came out, not only because Mark was looking for him, but because he was sitting on top of the shoulders of who Mark thought was a swimmer, waving a Hong Kong flag in the air, before flipping off the guy’s shoulders, landing on his feet and holding the flag high above his head. Mark burst out laughing, and felt fondness coursing through his body. 

There had been around twenty countries between the two of them, and although they weren't allowed to go to each other while ceremony was on, Jiaer moved so they were viewing distance from each other, Jiaer pulling faces, and having small conversations through facial expressions that Mark hoped no one would notice.

Once it was over, and they’d been allowed to leave, Jiaer made his way over to the American team and tried to blend in, Mark’s arm around Jiaer’s shoulders as he talked about the ceremony. It was around midnight when they finally got out of the stadium, and though Mark’s first event started in around nine hours, they’d been swept up in a crowd of athletes going out for drinks.

Jiaer had made him promise to only stay for half an hour, to which Mark complied, but he made up for that by drinking what he normally would in an hour in the thirty minutes he had. It was a bad idea, a very bad idea, but it was worth it for the look on Jiaer’s face as he downed shot after shot. Besides, he’d barely have a hangover in the morning, and Jiaer was drinking too. He wasn't too much more different than when he was sober, just pinker, and talking less and moving more.

He was also all over Mark. He’d started subtly, nothing that he didn't usually do, an arm around the waist and a hand on Mark’s thigh. That had migrated to a palm on the lower back, then sliding to rest in the same position but under the fabric of Mark’s shirt, his hand burning against the skin of Mark’s back, chills running up and down Mark’s spine and he resisted the urge to shiver, despite the heat.

Later on, a hand had found the way to Mark’s neck, Jiaer’s fingers curling in the soft hairs at the base of Mark’s head, and that had been practically impossible to bear, Mark’s neck always being sensitive, but Jiaer wasn't fazed, continuing to have a discussion with someone about fencing, whilst Mark stood next to him, his skin on fire. 

He managed to pull his phone out of his pocket without dropping it, taking a moment for his eyes to focus on the time. It’d been just over half an hour so Mark turned to Jiaer, slightly dizzy from the movement so he wrapped his arms around Jiaer’s middle, bending his head so his forehead was settled in Jiaer’s neck. He pulled back slightly, looking up at Jiaer, who’s conversation had gone silent, and pouting.

"Let’s go home Gaga,” Mark said, making sure his words came out in the right order but unable to prevent the whiny tone of his voice.

“Are you tired?” Jiaer asked, voice concerned, bringing a hand up to run it through Mark’s hair.

Mark pulled back, standing up straight, entire body prickling as he closed his eyes, swaying slightly as he tried to find the words.

“I have- I have my thing,” Mark eventually said, concentrating. He opened his eyes again and Jiaer was grinning, and whoever he’d been having a conversation with was smiling too.

“Let’s go then,” Jiaer said, putting an arm around Mark’s waist as always, Mark putting his arm around Jiaer as they leant on each other, staggering out of the bar. 

 

The humidity hit Mark with less force than usual as they walked outside, and he was slightly disappointed as he already felt his head becoming clearer. He was preoccupied with making sure Jiaer walked in a straight line that he didn't notice his hand slipping lower, only realising once it’d happened that Jiaer’s hand was settled in the back pocket of Mark’s trousers. 

Immediately Mark felt his skin alight, every cell in his body feeling like it was burning. He tried not to react and kept walking, but after a minute or so, he slipped his own hand into Jiaer’s back pocket, and resisted the urge to laugh as Jiaer immediately broke into a coughing fit.

They walked back to Mark’s apartment block like that, and with every step Mark felt something building in his chest, a tightness that felt like he was choking, blurring his vision slightly and his tongue growing heavy in his mouth. It was relatively quiet as they walked in, most people either asleep or still out drinking, and the quiet was thick as they waited for the elevator. 

The doors opened and they stepped in, Mark leaning back against the wall as Jiaer stood in front of him, doors sliding shut as they began to move. 

Never had an elevator gone so slow as when Jiaer was looking at Mark, lips red and shining, teeth digging into the skin and cheeks still pink. Mark looked away, and he felt his neck muscles tightening, and he felt Jiaer following the movement with his eyes. Mark tried to keep his breathing steady, to not start hyperventilating at the close proximity of Jiaer.

They’d been this close before, even closer than this, but Mark had never been so aware of Jiaer’s breathing, the rise and fall of his chest which he could feel reverberating against his body. And still, neither of them had said anything, but the air was heavy with tension between the two of them. 

The doors opened as the lift came to a shuddering halt, and it took effort for Mark to push off the wall to walk out, walking down the corridor, breathing still ragged, and skin still burning from the ten centimetre distance between him and Jiaer.

They came to a stop outside the apartment, and Mark leant back against the wall, fumbling in his pocket for his room card. Jiaer stepped closer to him, as though to ask what Mark was doing, but he froze as he came so close to Mark.

The fluorescent light of the hallway was harsh in Mark’s eyes as it illuminated Jiaer, making him seem brighter and otherwordly, the hum of the AC in the corridor seeming like a steady heartbeat. Mark's eyes were dry and he felt a shock run through him, overcome with nervousness as he became aware of how close together they really were, close enough for Mark to feel the warmth radiating from Jiaer's body, close enough to feel Jiaer's body rise and fall with every breath he took, close enough to feel Jiaer's breath on his collar, enough to know Jiaer smelled like mint, and smoke, and cologne, and of burning alcohol that made Mark’s head feel impossibly more dizzy and, in that moment, Mark was afraid.

His eyes involuntarily dropped to Jiaer’s lips, but he looked back up, heart thudding as he looked at Jiaer’s eyes, only to realise that his eyes too were trained on Mark’s lips. Mark tried for the hundredth time that night to keep calm, focusing on the shadow of Jiaer’s eyes on his cheekbones, on the sharp edge of his jaw and the soft skin under it, but that just made his pulse hammer even further against his neck, as though his very heart were trying to burst out of his skin.

Mark’s eyes dropped back down to Jiaer’s lips, and they were now slightly parted. There was practically no space between them, and Mark could feel the hardness of Jiaer’s chest as he pressed against him, not having noticed how Jiaer’s arms had come up to brace himself against the wall, encasing Mark so he was unable to move, not that he’d want to. He was unsure how he felt about Jiaer being so in control, but if it meant he could feel this way, he wasn't sure he minded. It was exhilarating. 

Mark felt Jiaer pull that slightest bit closer, his hips coming to knock against Mark’s, and he was sure he’d be unable to keep silent for much longer, already feeling something rising in his throat, be that a whine or a moan.

Mark wasn't sure he could stand it anymore, and he was about to take the control into his own hands when he heard a thud. 

Immediately Mark turned his head, to see that the door had opened, and Mark stretched his arms out, pushing Jiaer off him, while still touching him. His teammate stuck his head out of the door, eyes bleary and hair tousled.

“Tuan!” he said, voice croaky. “Get in here you wild thing. You too Wang.”

Immediately Mark felt every inch of his body burn red, and Jiaer turned to go inside and Mark followed, hand placed lightly in between Jiaer’s shoulder blades, his teammate muttering to himself as he locked the door.

“Don’t stay up too late!” he called as Mark headed down the hall to his and Jiaer’s room. Neither of them said anything as Jiaer gathered up his nightclothes, heading down the hall for a shower. 

Mark collapsed onto his bed, mind racing, terrified that things would be different, that he’d ruined everything, that he’d fucked everything up, like he was always scared he’d do.

Mark lay still on his side, slightly away from Jiaer as he lay down next to him, Jiaer assuming he was asleep. But when Jiaer settled down, he pulled Mark closer to him, pulling him into his chest and holding him close, and Mark felt everything in him relax as he shifted his arms around Jiaer, trying not to audibly sigh as he drifted into sleep, still in Jiaer’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a mess ohmyOGSH, but yknow what, we're rolling, and new chapters soon since it's half-term so ya girl's doing nothing except lying in bed and writing about gay popstars ;)) leave comments if u want, gr8ly appreciated. ty for reading!!
> 
> alsO here's a video someone made of markson face timing that i saw n it fits so well w the fic so u can look at that if u want~ http://ihaveanotherdimensionundermybed.tumblr.com/post/151304642242/i-found-this-gem-on-youtube-credit-to-ceesecake


	10. chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything i write feels like filler i am sorry

Mark woke early the morning of qualifiers, thankfully without a headache, checking the rest of his teammates were on their way to waking before he showered. They all got ready in silence, the quiet nervousness that went before an event settling around the apartment. Mark finished first, sitting on the side of his bed and trying to calm himself, Jiaer still sleeping solidly next to where he sat.

He stood up, readying himself to leave as he heard the rest of the team shuffling towards the door. He walked around to the other side of the bed, to where Jiaer lay. He’d curled in on himself since Mark had left his arms, and he looked so painfully small that Mark felt his eyes soften and breath hitch. Jiaer’s mouth was curled into a pout, and his arms were hugged tight around himself. His eyebrows were furrowed and he pulled tighter in on himself as Mark stood over him. Without thinking, Mark bent over and pressed his lips to Jiaer’s temple, and the creases that had formed on his forehead immediately smoothed out, and Jiaer sighed as Mark stood back up. 

Mark wished that he could stand watch over Jiaer for longer, but he knew he ought to leave before his teammates came looking for him, lest they wake Jiaer. He left the room, his steps quiet and reluctance tugging at his stomach. 

 

The team had qualified. They’d done as well as they’d hoped to do, Mark scoring high for his section. Given that he was only competing in one event for the team, he’d given up his family seats for the members competing in more divisions during the team event. But that was a few hours ago, and soon it was time for the individual event qualifiers. His family would be coming to watch him, and from what his sister had been saying last night, they were planning on sneaking Jiaer in too. 

After waiting for what felt like forever, the gymnasts were finally called out, walking out into the arena to cheers in dozens of different languages. They all stood in a line, waving to the spectators, but Mark immediately zeroed in on his family. His mother and father were cheering, his mum with an American flag wrapped around her shoulders, his father a Taiwanese. There was his brother-in-law with his huge camera that he brought everywhere, and his sister with Kylie in the seat next to her. And next to them was Jiaer, Jiaer with Mark’s niece Leila on his shoulders, both beaming down at Mark. He waved shyly over, and Jiaer yelled, pulling Leila down into his arms as they both waved.

Mark felt some of the anxiety that was burning in him subside, and as the gymnasts filed over to the benches to wait their turn, Mark found himself smiling, a little less likely to vomit than he had been five minutes ago. 

 

When Yien came first in his division qualifiers, Jackson didn't cry. He didn't. _He didn’t,_ his eyes just got a little blinded by all the cameras. But maybe he got a little emotional, after seeing Yien work so hard, and knowing that now he was so close to winning gold. Maybe Jackson got a little emotional.

After Yien had finished, his parents had left, given that his dad had been sleeping off his jet lag whenever Yien wasn't in view. They’d all been so lovely to Jackson, and if he’d been worried he’d feel awkward around Yien’s family without him there, he’d been wrong. They’d all doted on him, Yien’s mother immediately taking a liking to him, chatting away to him in Mandarin and trying to feed him with whatever she had in her handbag. Leila had clambered onto him and promptly fallen asleep, and Yien’s sister was looking at Jackson like he was some sort of saint. 

And all of Yien’s cheer squad were as devoted as ever, shouting whenever anyone finished their routine, Yien’s dad yelling out cheers in Mandarin and Hokkien that had the other American families looking at him funny. Leila and Kylie screamed whenever anything happened, and Yien’s brother-in-law was practically falling out of his seat trying to film. But Jackson, Jackson was just sitting, (most of the time) watching in silent awe at the gymnasts. The way they moved, the way they moved through the air like it was nothing, the way that Yien, _Yien_ , could move his body, had Jackson short of breath. And when the results came through, Jackson couldn't describe how he felt, the pure, unadulterated joy that came coursing through his body, making him want to sing and scream and jump all at the same time, and had him realising that he loved Yien again, and again, and again.

It was maybe a good thing then, that Yien’s parents weren't there to meet him after they were let out, because it meant that when Jackson met him after the event finished and pulled him into a rib cracking hug, as always breathing in the now familiar smell of him, feeling Yien’s pulse hammering against where Jackson’s mouth was pressed to his neck, Jackson wouldn't feel so embarrassed about the way he couldn't stop smiling and how his cheeks were aching from being pulled back in a smile for so long. 

Yien’s nieces were growing tired so they each gave him a kiss on the cheek, his older sister squeezing his arm and smiling at Yien and Jiaer, unbeknownst to them, leaving them to head back to the village, Jackson’s arm around Yien’s waist as he settled into his neck, Jackson trying not to look down at Yien in constant adoration, and failing, as he often did, over and over.

 

There was a day in between Yien's qualifiers and his team event, but Jackson had training all morning and interviews with various Hong Kong news stations in the afternoon. Yien of course had training all day, so they only saw each other as Jackson slipped into Yien’s room, long having acquired a key off the missing roommate, Yien asleep already and Jackson sliding in beside him, pulling Yien into his arms once more and trying not to notice how Yien immediately relaxed into Jackson’s arms.

 

The team were doing badly. At this rate, they’d be lucky to pull into the top five, let alone place on the podium. They only had two more events left, floor and rings, and if Mark had been nervous before, that was nothing compared to the pressure he felt now. He could practically feel the expectations on him, and the pull in his stomach that told him to do well seemed to be dragging him down into the floor. It was on him, to bring this back for them and salvage something of a position, not only for his team, but for his country (or what he was told was his country).

The rotation was called out and Mark gathered up his things along with the rest of the team, as they walked around in relative silence to the floor position. The air was heavy with the expectation on Mark, and he found himself once again unable to take off his jacket due to his shaky hands. 

The announcer called out Mark’s name and he found himself walking onto the platform. So soon? He raised a hand and waved to the arena, sucking in breath as he walked to the corner of the floor to the sounds of the audiences cheers. He tried to still his mind, but the roar of the crowd was filling it. He tried to focus on that instead, hoping it would ground him, when he heard an irritatingly familiar screech, and Mark immediately felt a surge of affection rushing up inside him.

It was Jiaer, of course, screaming out “Tuan Yien!” and Mark dared to open his eyes to see the rest of his family doing the same. His nieces were waving tiny little Taiwanese flags and his parents looked near tears. Jiaer was wolf whistling but stopped as he saw Mark looking in their direction, making a heart sign with his hands that had Mark looking away again, calm settling into the walls of his chest. 

He raised his hands above his head as the arena went quiet, and Mark felt the blood thrumming behind as eyes under the glare of the fluorescent lights. This was it.  

It happened so fast, muscle memory taking over as Mark always hoped it would, turning into his routine, flipping in the air and landing with his feet firmly on the ground. A slight swell of a cheer began to rise in the crowd, but the audience were soon hushed as Mark pressed on. Flip, turn, a triple spin and another solid landing. He sprang back up, rolling into the corner for the final move, and he could hear the timer counting down. He ran, leaping into the final twist, turning, the world suspended and a calm settled over Mark once again, and he landed, feet firm, on the ground. 

He looked up, triumph coursing through every cell and for a moment he couldn't see, the glare of the lights and vacuum noise of the arena engulfing him. He ducked his head, face flushed as he walked back off the platform, immediately met with a gut removing hug from his team. He found himself laughing, walking back over to his bench, exchanging handshakes and hugs with the other floor athletes, grinning at a Chinese gymnast he knew relatively well who was up next, mouthing a 'jiayou' and raising a fist, to which he gave a shaky smile in return.

Mark collapsed down, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and chugging down water, looking up at the scoreboard before smiling at all the cameras trained on him, giving them a small wave.

 _“Mark Yien Tuan, for the United States of America”_ the commentator said, repeating it in various languages, voice booming over the arena and Mark felt everything in him fizz. _“15.9”_

Mark heard someone scream and he knew without looking that it was Jiaer, not even opening his eyes as he was lifted into a hug by the team. He’d scored higher than in qualifiers, he’d scored higher than anyone else, he’d done better than he ever dreamed he could, and he may have just saved the teams honour with getting them into the top five.

Mark was elated, feeling high as he sat back down, everything in him soaring, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to see Jiaer, and how he felt impatience crawling in his skin, until he could see him, and share this with him.

 

In the days leading up to Jackson’s event, when they weren't training at least, he was with Yien. There wasn't much to do around the village, and while Yien could leave, the Hong Kong officials didn't want their athletes to leave the Olympic park. Jackson had tried to convince Yien to go out without him, to go to the beach or look at birds or something but Yien wasn't having any of it.

It was usually later in the evenings that they would be free, so they ate together every night, despite the occasional questioning glance that two people from different countries were eating together, especially since they were in different sports, and _especially_ since they didn't seem to be hooking up, or to be just friends, not that either of them noticed, or would've cared.

It was the night before Jackson would be competing, and they’d eaten early. The fencing events only lasted one day, qualifications in the morning and running into the evening. It’d be over quickly, but at least the longer running events had the pressure spread out over the two weeks, rather than building up onto one day. Jackson was nervous of course, but the tension in him seemed less than it usually was, perhaps cause half of it seemed to have spread into Yien, who looked to be almost equally as anxious as Jackson. 

They were both awake, neither acknowledging that they knew the other was awake, lying next to each other and pretending to be asleep. Jackson could slowly feel sleep settling into his muscles, despite his mind still racing, when he felt Yien shift, turning onto his side to face Jackson.

“Jiaer?” Yien asked, voice soft, and immediately Jackson turned to face Yien, who looked vaguely startled. Jackson looked on at Yien, waiting for him to continue, but he appeared to not know what to say.

Instead, Yien pulled Jackson closer to him, wrapping his arms around him, and Jackson’s face settled into his neck. Jackson was used to the other way around, to having Yien in his arms, but right now, with Jackson feeling so vulnerable, he let himself be held, let himself settle deeper into Yien’s arms, intertwining their legs and descending into sleep.

 

Mark woke up early, the edges of the window pale blue as the sun rose behind the curtains. Jiaer had started to shift next to him, peeling himself off of Mark and out of the bed, heading down the hall towards the shower. Mark lay there for a minute, eyes closed until the sound of the water carried down the hall. He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed before standing, blindly fumbling for his clothes.

Jiaer had to meet with his coach in the dining hall, and Mark would coincidentally accompany him as they happened to be heading the same way. And then, all the more conveniently, Mark would go with him to the arena, where he would meet with Jiaer’s family, who, coincidentally and conveniently, would have a spare ticket for the family seating area which Mark would take, given that the whole thing had been so _coincidental_ and _convenient_.

The shower was still running once Mark was finished dressing. He’d go brush his teeth once Jiaer came out, but right now, he found himself standing in the blue light of the bedroom, white sheets tousled and glowing slightly in the increasing light. 

 

 _“He’d drop everything and come right back, you know,”_   his sister had said once, when she was came over to drop off leftovers one night and caught Mark staring into space, laptop still on and his hand wrapped around his bracelet.  _“if you asked.”_

Mark knew it, in the same way he knew that he would do anything, go anywhere, if Jiaer only asked him to.

 _“That’s why I don’t.”_  Mark had replied, before changing the subject.

 

He could hear Jiaer walking back towards the bedroom, so he drew himself back together, gathering all of himself up again, smiling as Jiaer came through the door.

 

Mark didn't understand fencing much, but given that Jiaer’s dad seemed near tears seemed to Mark that something important was going on. Mark had just been yelling when everyone else did, and sticking with Jiaer’s brother, and his fiancee who looked at least half as confused in Mark. Most of the time he had difficulty figuring out which one was Jiaer anyway, given the uniforms.

From what he understood, Jiaer had made it through the qualifiers, and when Mark said there were a lot of rounds, he meant _a lot._ He’d just finished one game, and apparently won, which meant Jiaer was through to the semifinals. Mark couldn't help himself from feeling breathless as he looked up the screens playing highlights from Jiaer’s match, including how he’d pulled his mask off, hair pushed back and eyes bright, how the camera showed him turning and waving at the spectators, and how Mark knew he was waving at him.

It was a bit frightening, Mark supposed, as he watched Jiaer walk back out for the semifinal. Jiaer had already made it farther than he’d wanted, quarterfinals being his private goal, despite telling his family, coach, and anyone else for that matter that he was just happy to be there. He was far too modest in Mark’s opinion, and from the way the commentators were raving about Jiaer, Mark was right.

But he still felt a little worried, a little stupid too. The way they just seemed to attack each other had Mark’s heart in his mouth. He knew it was stupid, he’d seen Jiaer’s sabre and it was thinner than Mark’s pinky, and the armour he wore was more than enough to protect him. Mark could appreciate the grace in it, the style and the beauty of it, but it only took a closeup of someone launching at Jiaer with what looked uncomfortably like a sword to have Mark reeling.

He was snapped out his vague reverie by Jiaer’s mother grabbing at his arm. When he looked down in surprise, he realised she wasn't looking at him at all, having grabbed Mark on reflex, eyes wide and clinging to him.

“If he gets this,” she whispered, voice soft and Mandarin accented. “he’s through.”

Mark smiled, pulling her closer, and she gripped onto him, eyes hard and small hands digging into his side. He watched as the alarm went for the fencers to move again, and Jiaer lunged forward, darting back and forth, but as soon as Mark’s eyes settled it was over, Jiaer moving quicker than anyone’s brain could pick up, launching and striking his opponent in the chest. Another alarm went and the arena screamed, Jiaer’s father dropping to the floor in tears, his mother hugging Mark with more force than he thought a five foot woman could ever have, Jiaer’s brother and his fiancee holding each other tightly.

And Mark, Mark was watching jiaer, who’d ripped his mask off, head thrown back in sheer joy, laughing as the cameras went in close to him, his face filling the screens and Mark could make out how bright his eyes were. Mark found himself breathing again, everything in him hovering two feet off the ground as he watched Jiaer. His eyes never left Jiaer as he went over to hug his coach, cameras still following him, Jiaer turning regularly to wave at them. They were trying to get him to say something but Jiaer was moving around and shaking hands with everyone on his opponents team, and as he turned to walk back out to the changing rooms he looked at Mark across the room.

Mark would've expected him to make some cheesy heart sign with his hands, or wink, or do a peace sign or something equally dumb, but all he did was meet Mark’s eyes, his smile getting impossibly bigger and Mark felt his own smile growing in unison with Jiaer, before he turned and headed back into the preparation room to wait for the finals.

 

Jackson knew Yien was watching him. He could feel Yien’s eyes tracking his every move in every game he played, but the awareness only calmed him. Knowing that Yien was there brought a sense of peace over Jackson that he’d never felt in any other instance. The day had felt like a dream, his body taking over every match, acting on its own accord. And somehow, here he was, at the final. Again, reflex had taken over, and now there was only one more point needed for Jackson for him to win. To _win gold_.

He’d heard his mother crying before they came out, and could make out the whiteness of his father’s knuckles from where he’d stood. His brother and his fiancee were clutching each other, and his coach seemed not to be breathing, But Yien, Yien looked so calm. His eyes seemed not to have left Jackson, his face steady, and that only calmed Jackson further, the faith Yien had in Jackson filling him with determination. The alarm sounded for them to move again, and Jackson stilled.

It was over in seconds. Jackson launched forward, chasing his opponent down the platform, never backtracking, launching forward and making contact. The alarm sounded again, and it was over. 

Jackson fell to his knees, ripping his helmet off and yelling. The golden scorch of victory burnt through Jackson, and it was only when he was able to make out voices over the cheers of the crowd that he found himself able to stand again. He made his way over to his opponent, shaking his hand and then hugging him before turning around.

He stumbled off the platform into a bearhug from his coach, his huge arms wrapping around Jackson and slight tears in his eyes as he pulled back, all their hard work and constant exhaustion built up in his eyes. His physio, his trainer, various people on Jackson’s team all hugging him, all smiling. It was only when he reached the end of his team that he made his way over to his family.

He knew the cameras were following him and the commentators voice was echoing over the arena in a way that commanded attention, but Jackson blocked it all out. His mother’s thin face was streaked with tears, and her arms were shaking as she leaned over the barrier separating the seating area to wrap in a hug, murmuring into his hair and Jackson felt unshed tears fizzing in his nose. His father hugged him too, pounding him on the back till Jackson choked. His brother hugged him as Jackson made his way down the line, his fiancee too, soft and smiling warmly.

Jackson was almost nervous as he stood in front of Yien, who’s face was emitting pride with a glow that left Jackson’s eyes burning. He stayed unmoving for a moment before Yien vaulted over the barrier, Jackson feeling a laugh split out of him as Yien landed. Jackson didn't even think, grabbing Yien and pulling him into his arms with a force that lifted him off the ground, and Jackson span with Yien in his arms, Yien’s laugh echoing out of him as he did so. 

He placed him down, gentle, and Yien’s eyes were crescents, his cheeks meeting them from how wide he was smiling. Jackson knew he mirrored the expression, and he felt the urge to pull him back into his arms, but Yien stepped back, turning around and vaulting back over the barrier, and Jackson felt another laugh pulled out of him. Jackson turned back, once again made aware of the cameras with a jolt. Jackson smiled at them, making his way over to where he was being directed, Yien’s eyes still burning in the back of his mind.

 

Tears didn't form in Mark’s eyes as Jiaer accepted his medal. They poured, out of his eyes and down his cheeks, burning before they cooled as they dripped to the floor. His mouth was dry, throat shreds, and his body shook with sobs until all he could see was Jiaer on the screen, Jiaer ten foot tall, burning, glorious, and smiling at Mark.

 

It went by quickly. Jackson had denied all offers of going out drinking, citing exhaustion as the reason. The interviews had lasted well into the night, his linguistic abilities drained dry as he spoke to journalists from everywhere from Singapore to New Zealand to Quebec. They seemed to like the fact that he’d sort of appeared out of nowhere (despite having won bronze four years before), painting him as a young maverick bursting onto the scene, sabre raised and ready to lunge in all of his youthful, handsome glory, and it didn't hurt that he had a claim to half a dozen different countries. Jackson tried to feel happy about it, his Instagram followers increasing each second by the thousand, but by the end of it exhaustion had overtaken him.

Any form of celebration was postponed, until he’d eaten, slept, and deleted some of the more embarrassing things off of his Weibo. He’d stumbled out of the fencing arena far too late to do anything, only to find Yien sitting on a bench outside, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He looked up as Jackson came over to him, smiling and standing, and Jackson stumbled forward a few steps, dropping his bag and collapsing into Yien’s outstretched arms. 

He could feel Yien smiling into his hair, and Jackson pressed his face into the collar of Yien’s shirt, breathing deep. Yien ran his hands up and down Jackson’s back, warm through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. 

Yien pulled back, hands on Jackson’s shoulders, beaming, before leaning down and picking up Jackson’s bag, swinging it over his shoulder and his other arm around Jackson’s waist.

They fell asleep straight away that night, too tired to change their clothes, t-shirts and boxers left on in favour of a few more minutes sleep. Neither was sure who pulled who into their arms that night. It didn't matter anymore.

 

Jackson spent most of the next day in interviews. He had a medical in the morning, and despite his attempts to drag it out, he was cleared and sent away and taken to a room packed with dozens of reporters. He felt himself loosening up as the hours went by, still managing to smile, not mix up his grammar, and sufficiently charm everyone into letting him leave early. He met Yien after his training, and they’d gone out drinking again.

They’d had fun, Yien introducing Jackson to every American he could find, as well as most of the Chinese and Korean Olympians, who welcomed Jackson with a warmth that found him missing Seoul. Only a little bit. He’d texted everyone back home, Jaebum saying he’d had to turn off the TV after he was sure Jackson had won, so he could go back to sleep. Bam had slept through it, but Yugyeom had woken him up whenever he thought it was important, and Jackson found himself liking the guy even more. 

They came in late, sleeping in their clothes again, and only slightly more handsy than usual. Yien kept fucking giggling, and Jackson looked away each time, biting his lip and trying not to smile.

 

The next few days passed in a similar fashion, just with Yien training more as he prepared for the individual floor. His brother, other sister, and her wife had come out, and again they welcomed Jackson in a way he couldn't have prepared for, into their arms and away from any last shreds of anxiety he had at not getting Yien’s family’s approval. Jackson’s parents had gone home the day before, his mother needing to get back to be close to her doctors. His brother and his fiancee were staying on a few more days in the country, travelling a bit before flying back to prepare for the wedding. 

 

And here they were. Jackson in a crowd of Tuans, all waiting in the audience for Yien’s event to start. They’d sat through various finals, cheering where appropriate but all slightly reserved, anticipation encasing them all. There were murmurs as the next event was called, turning to cheers as the gymnasts came out, Yien among them. 

They lined up and waved, Yien directing his attention at their block and looking down, slightly embarrassed but grinning at the spectacle they were making. They all shuffled off, and Jackson went back to waiting, following Yien with his eyes as they moved. 

He zoned out as he watched the other gymnasts, the way they moved seeming surreal to him. The fact that Yien could do that, could push himself like that, had never quite settled. It didn't help when a Kazakh competitor had landed funny, leg unnaturally bent and face white with pain as he was carried out of the silent arena. The vaguest image of Yien in a similar position crawled into Jackson’s mind, but he quickly covered it, before he started to feel ill.

Yien was the last competitor. A British gymnast had scored high, at the top of the table now and Jackson could see he squeezed Yien’s arm as he stepped onto the platform. Jackson wasn't sure whether to watch the screen or Yien himself, but found his attention drawn to the body on the platform regardless of his choice.

He looked less nervous this time, face blank, body solid where he stood. The cheers died down, and Jackson found himself gripping his seat, Yien’s nieces cuddled into his sides. The commentator called out Yien’s name, and the call to start. So Yien did.

Jackson didn't breathe as Yien flipped forward through the air, landing solid and effortless, repeating in a similar fashion, dropping to the floor and body spinning, supported on his hands and muscles taut. He rolled again, flipping forward, over and over, turning and using the force to flip once more, before jumping and spinning, once, twice, three, four times, landing straight, feet solid, arms raised above his head. And the arena screamed.

Immediately Yien deflated, staggering off the platform, the screen showing him being wrapped in a jacket by his coach, settling onto a bench and chugging back water, eyes closed. 

 _“Mark Yien Tuan, for the United States of America,”_   the commentator echoed. _“Truly mesmerising to watch, not a single breath taken without deliberation. Did extremely well in the team events, saving the USA a top five position. The judges are taking a while to decide, and that certainly isn’t a bad thing. Remember the highest ever scored in this event since the new system was introduced has been a 16.0, in 2008 for China. The judges look like they're coming to a decision, you can see the poor fellow -  Jesus Christ it’s a 16.5, a perfect ten.”_

Everything left Jackson. Everything but the image of Yien, hearing he’d done it, he’d done it, he’d done the best they’d ever seen, he’d won gold. He’d won gold. and he was looking at Jackson.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol it's cliche for them both to win gold but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry this took so long T-T also happy bday gyeom!!!


	11. chapter eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lololol not been proofread AT ALL so call me out on mistakes, most of this was bashed out at like three in the morning but we're gonna ignore that, hope u like it

It was cliche to say that the few days after Mark won gold were a blur, but that was the only way he could think to describe them. His and Jiaer’s families had seen them a couple of times before they all headed home, Yien and Jiaer staying on till the closing ceremony for the pure novelty of it. Like it’d been with Jiaer, most of Mark’s following days were with reporters and camera crews, collapsing into bed, too tired to do much else but lie on top of Jiaer until he rolled him off with a gasping laugh. Neither of them were too interested in seeing other events, and Jiaer said he’d vomit if he even had to look at another sabre for the next three months. 

It’d taken some convincing, and a few subtle comments about his gold medal, to convince the Hong Kong officials to let Jiaer leave the village. But, eventually they’d been freed, unsure of what to do with their newfound freedom given to them in exchange for their perspective country’s glory, but they’d gone to the beach for want of anything else.

It was quiet, late in the day, and the sky was a pearly grey, dark with the promise of rain. It expanded out over the ocean, over fishing boats and curling waves, curving down over the horizon. Of course, Jiaer made straight for the sea, running towards the waves and screaming as he did so, chasing birds up and down the sand. Mark smiled and chased some birds of his own, before sitting down on the slope of the sand, shoes off and toes buried.

He could feel, rather than see, Jiaer wandering down the beach. Mark let his eyes focus further out to sea, the muted ocean churning away in front of him. His mind turned itself back to a night he’d spent on the beach a few months before, his mind less rational and his heart less settled. The wind was warm and smooth over his hair, sea salt stinging his skin slightly and the sound of birds overhead bringing Mark into a sense of calm that he’d thought came from being nowhere else. 

But as Mark let himself grow more permanently into his position, he found that this sense of solidness in his stomach, tightness of skin and lungs full of air came from things other than being by the ocean, things that had their jeans rolled up and were wading into the sea after some birds, a sense of determination that mirrored an expression they’d made when they won an Olympic gold medal. Things that had bright eyes and strong arms that held Mark as he slept.

Mark dropped his eyes to his feet buried into the sand, away from things less certain. He leant back, supported on his splayed hands, head tilted back towards the slate of sky above him. Jiaer was far off, his cries blanketed by the sound of the wind in Mark’s ears. His mind moved to things less comforting, like his future, his opportunities. People had been asking if Mark thought he would compete in Tokyo, if he’d any goals for the future. Christ, Mark didn't know where he was going to be in a month let alone in four years. 

And Jiaer, where would Mark be, if not with Jiaer? Mark’s time at university in Korea had ended, but Jiaer had a few more months to go, and right now Mark felt uncomfortable to not even be looking at Jiaer, let alone be continents away again. He didn't think he could do that again. Was it worth it, feeling like this? Was it worth it? If he’d had the opportunity to go back, would he make the same choices, choices that had led him to feeling confused, disoriented, and so unlike himself? Choices that lead to Mark wanting to cast away what had once been his dreams, his aspirations, for the sake of a few less miles between himself and the one who he’d grown to love.

Mark was nudged out of his own mind by Jiaer. He’d knelt down at Mark’s feet, leaning forward and up towards Mark, hand outstretched. His eyes were crescents of a smile, hair tousled and edging at his brow bone, water droplets caught in his eyelashes. Nestled in his palm was a shell, no bigger than Mark’s thumbnail, a pink colour that reminded Mark of sunsets in Taiwan. 

“For you,” was all Jiaer said, and Mark picked it out of his hand, delicate as he held it between two fingers, holding it up to his eyes. Jiaer stood up again, dashing back towards the sea, clothes already soaked and Mark watched on, fondness blossoming in his heart, any doubts, any trepidations, any questions, silenced under the hush of waves and Jiaer’s laugh, because yes, it was worth it, he was worth it. 

 

The whole time they’d been there, Jackson had eaten with Yien whenever they were both free. The dining hall was cavernous, with long tables and a constant hum of fluorescent lights and unknown languages. There was a semi-division of countries, teammates usually sitting with one another, people having either a country or a sport in common. As a result, Jackson got a few stares when he sat with Yien, but no one had said anything so far.

It was another one of their free days. They’d gone to see someone Jackson knew in the taekwondo, who’d one bronze. It was just after nine at night, and they’d stumbled into the dining hall which was still buzzing with people milling about. They’d sat down at a free section of a table, next to one another and talking about something mindless as they ate.

Yien was in the middle of talking about whether or not he should have cornflakes or toast for breakfast tomorrow when Jackson noticed the man sitting across from Yien was glaring at him. His mouth curled into a sneer as he eyed Yien up and down, his eyes catching on the team USA brand on Yien’s identification card that was sitting on the table.

“You’re competing for _America_ ,” he said, interrupting Yien mid-sentence, and Yien froze. “you should be speaking _American_. You immigrants take our jobs, and now our glory? At least try and _act_ like you belong, instead of speaking to foreigners.”

Yien’s face had drained of colour, and no words came out as he opened his mouth to speak. Jackson heard the blood rushing in his ears, face heating from the bottom up as his hands shook.

“This immigrant won a medal for _your_ country,” Jackson said, trying to stop his voice from shaking as he bored holes into the mans skull, who’d gone slightly pale as he realised Jackson spoke English. “you’re a badminton player aren't you? Never even made it through the first round of qualifiers. America’s never won a medal for badminton have they? Maybe you ought to get some immigrants to do it for you.”

The man opened his mouth but only a vague gargling noise came out. Jackson stood up, his chair scraping against the floor and drawing his attention to the fact that the area around them had gone silent. He didn't say anything, just placed a hand on Yien’s shoulder, who then stood. 

It took a lot of willpower to not jump over the table and punch the man in the face, or to storm off either. Instead, Jackson grabbed Yien’s hand and pulled him out of the hall, Yien still vaguely dazed and pale.

 

Jackson didn't stop walking until they’d reached the empty lawn in between the apartment blocks for the athletes, setting Yien down on a bench on the pathway that ran around it but feeling like he couldn't sit down himself yet, pacing slightly and running his hands through his hair.

"I’m sorry,” Jackson heard Yien say and immediately Jackson turned, dropping down onto his knees in front of Yien and taking his hands on his own, looking up at Yien.

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Jackson said, steady. “don’t you dare.”

“But I just froze,” Yien said, drawing his lower lip into his mouth and avoiding Jackson’s eyes. “I just sat there, I couldn't even speak, it was so embarrassing. What kind of person am I, depending on you, forcing you to-“

“Yien,” Jackson said, and at that Yien looked at him. “it’s completely normal, in a situation like that. You were shocked, hell, I was shocked. And you didn't force me to defend you, if anything you forced me not to. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have said anything, I would've just punched the dick in the face. Fucking badminton player, American isn't even a language…”

Yien smiled slightly and Jackson felt one pull at the sides of his mouth. He stood and Yien did so too, so they were standing close together, Jackson still holding Yien’s hands in his own. 

“I’m glad you didn't punch him,” Yien said, eyes bright and face lit with the glow of a streetlight, the smell of dryer sheets and the ocean over his cologne reminding Jackson that the only thing separating their two bodies was their own clasped hands between them. “he’d have hit you back.”

“And I couldn't take him?” Jackson said, mock offended, dropping their hands and clasping his chest in horror. 

“You definitely could,” Yien said, rolling his eyes. “but still.”

“Did you worry about me Yien?” Jackson said, smile pressing bigger, moving one of his hands to settle at the small of Yien’s back, Yien bending his head down to rest his forehead against the top of Jackson’s shoulder.

“I always worry about you,” Yien said into Jackson’s skin and Jackson hoped Yien didn't feel his pulse speed up.

“Baobei,” Jackson said, and Yien looked up, annoyed but face still centimetres from Jackson’s. He brought his hand up to hold the back of of Jackson’s neck and Jackson felt his very being seize up. Yien seemed unaware of Jackson’s state, they’d been this close before, it shouldn't matter, but for some reason Jackson was practically delirious, his vision blurring.

“I’m not a baby,” Yien said, eyes dark, fingers curling in the hair that curled at the nape of Jackson’s neck. He might’ve been smirking but at this point Jackson wasn't sure of his own name, let alone anything happening around him.

“Of course you are. You’re my baby,” Jackson said on reflex, and Yien smiled.

He gripped the front of Jackson’s shirt, pulling him closer, and for a second they just stayed there, clutching at each other, breathing the same air, millimetres from one another. Jackson nudged Yien’s nose with his own, and he turned his face to slant their mouths together, impossibly closer to Yien.

Yien made a strangled sound into his mouth, fingers tightening in Jackson’s shirt. He kissed back immediately, making the softest little noises, but movements hard, almost desperate, and Jackson felt Yien gasp when Jackson bit his bottom lip. Jackson could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he felt Yien’s lips moving against his own.

Jackson’s mind had been exploding up until this point, finally calm now, thinking of nothing but Yien. He was soft, his fingers still grasping at Jackson’s hair, and Jackson slid his hand up the back of Yien’s shirt, his skin smooth under Jackson’s tentative hands.

Yien slid his tongue into Jackson’s mouth, soft and warm, and Jackson couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that this time he wasn't dreaming. He smiled slightly against Yien’s mouth and Yien hummed. He ran his fingers through Jackson’s hair, and Jackson felt goosebumps raising on his bare arms, his toes curling in his shoes, every inch of him responding to Yien.

Jackson finally pulled back after a few minutes, catching his breath, arms still around Yien’s waist. Yien mumbled something after Jackson pulled away, eyes still half closed, lips swollen and cheekbones flushed pink. 

“Christ Yien,” Jackson said, half laughing as he tilted to press another kiss to Yien’s mouth, and then another, and another, quick and full, rubbing his thumb across the line of yien’s jaw. He felt laughter ready to burst out of him, but held it in, trying not to draw any more attention to them. 

“You’re an idiot,” Yien said, shoving him slightly, and Jackson couldn't stop his laughter, pulling Yien back to him by the waist and kissing him on the corner of his lips, pout spreading into a smile as Jackson kissed his cheeks, his nose, down onto his neck and Yien shrieked with laughter, echoing off the buildings and coming back to where they stood.

 

Mark woke to find Jiaer already awake, hand running absentmindedly through Mark’s hair, his head resting on Jiaer’s chest and Jiaer’s arm around his waist, pulling him closer to his side. Mark kept his eyes closed, his breathing still slow, feeling like he shouldn't disturb Jiaer. 

They’d gone back up to the apartment, doing nothing different than they had before, except both a little less apprehensive at the physical contact they’d grown used to. Mark had slept easy that night, as he had done these last few nights in Jiaer’s arms. 

He felt Jiaer’s hand in his hair slow slightly as he heard someone approach down the hall. Mark heard one of his teammates call out something about breakfast and Jiaer groaned.

“Too tired,” Jiaer called out and Mark heard the man on the other side of the door laugh, and Mark laughed slightly too.

“You’re awake?” Jiaer asked, looking down at Yien, his voice deeper as he switched from English to Mandarin, the timbre of Jiaer’s voice buzzing through his chest, Mark feeling it on his skin and finding his breath hitch.

Mark just hummed, turning into Jiaer’s chest and hiding his face, shaking his head and Jackson laughed, fingers tightening in Mark’s hair. Mark felt himself drifting back into sleep, wrapping his legs around Jiaer’s, Jiaer’s hand still in his hair.

 

 

**Sometime after four in the morning, Seoul, South Korea**

 

 

“Yah, Yugyeom, wake up."

Jinyoung elbowed Yugyeom in the gut and he woke with a start, jerking up with a gasp, settling back down into the couch with a pout and a glare towards Jinyoung, settling his head onto Bambam’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna miss it” Jinyoung said, rolling his eyes and sitting down next to Yugyeom, eating his popcorn, eyes fixed on the TV. 

Jaebum and Youngjae were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, leaning against each other, Youngjae half asleep and Jaebum looking at him fondly. Bambam was taking a selfie and Yugyeom was holding up a light for him, fondness evident in every part of his body as he looked at Bambam. And Jinyoung, Jinyoung had Coco. 

The athletes finally started pouring out after some musical performances that no one had payed attention to. They were all mingled together, making it ever more difficult for them all to spot their perspective friends. They’d all been quite surprised when Yugyeom had said they all knew people in their own friend groups competing in the Olympics, so ought to watch the closing ceremony together. The four of them had been marvelling at the coincidence the whole night, with Yugyeom giggling away in the background.

They watched as various athletes all waved at the cameras, the commentators voice buzzing away in the background, making comments about who was who and pointing out the odd Korean athlete in the back of a shot. The camera panned over them, occasionally focusing on anyone who looked interesting.

“We’ll not even see Mark,” Jinyoung said, complaining as he shoved popcorn into his mouth by the fistful. “There’s so many of them! Besides, he’s probably not even called Mark, it’s hopeless.”

“He’s not called Mark?” Jaebum said, turning to look at Jinyoung in confusion. “He’s not called his name?”

“He’s a foreigner you idiot,” Jinyoung said, rolling his eyes. “he’s a double foreigner, foreign to the place where he’s from, and foreign to here. Double names.”

“Yeah, hyung has a few names too,” Bambam said, nudging Jaebum with his foot. “so do I, Jaebum hyung you really ought to be more openminded.”

Jaebum spluttered and made to stand up, probably planning on hitting Bambam, but Youngjae was laughing so hard that Jaebum couldn't help but smile, settling back next to him.

“Watch the damn TV!” Yugyeom called over them and they all groaned simultaneously, turning back towards it.

The camera was focusing on a group of athletes, who were all coming up and making faces into the lens, the commentators talking about them as they did so.

“You can see the Korean basketball team in the back, did very well considering how they barely qualified in London,” the commentator said, droning on as more athletes passed by the camera. 

Two athletes walked past, gold medals around their necks and grinning from ear to ear. They paused in front of the camera, gold medals hanging again their chests, each reaching for the others medal, holding it up and biting it as athletes tended to do. They smiled into the camera, pulling faces before walking off again, arms around each other, replaced by an Armenian weightlifting champion.

“That was Wang Jiaer and Mark Yien Tuan that we just saw, a gymnast and a fencer from the Hong Kong and American teams respectively, both gold medal winners, and both attending university in Seoul we believe. An unlikely pair but they’ve been seen to be close throughout the past few weeks. That’s the true spirit of the games, international cooperation through….”

The room was silent. the only noise was the continued drone of the television, the traffic outside, and Coco eating Jinyoung’s popcorn. 

“He’s not as good looking as I thought he’d be,” someone finally said, and was immediately pelted with popcorn by the someone’s friends, before carnage broke out as they took to social media to try and figure out what the hell had just happened, Yugyeom just sitting in the middle of it all and looking smug. 

 

 

There were only a few reporters outside the airport as they arrived. The American athletes were all leaving at once but since Jiaer was flying back to Korea via Paris rather than to Hong Kong via Dubai, he’d convinced the officials to let him leave at a separate date. As a result, Jiaer was looking very lost amidst a crowd of American athletes in the departures hall, hoodie positively drowning him as he looked at the ground. Mark loved him.

His flight to Paris was earlier than the flight to Los Angeles was, so Mark’d split off from the rest of the team to wait with Jiaer at his gate. Neither of them spoke much, sitting at the practically empty waiting area, thighs just barely pressing together as they leant ever so slightly into each other. Mark could practically feel the distance between the two of them, crackling and fizzing, but Mark knew that in an hour it would become, gaping, aching, and the thought of it was making him nauseous. 

“You’re pale,” Jiaer said, and Mark turned his head to see Jiaer looking at him, concern in the corners of his eyes. “are you feeling okay?”

Mark debated lying, but shook his head instead, and Jiaer took his hand in his own, lacing his fingers with Mark’s. He kept their hands low from anyone who might see but the gesture in itself calmed Mark’s pulse into something less like thunder.

“When I graduate,” Jiaer said quietly, throat slightly hoarse, “I can go wherever I want. I’d meant to go home but I haven't planned anything. I could come to America, if you’d like.”

“You know I’d like that Gaga,” Mark said, squeezing Jiaer’s hand. “but I don’t know if i can stay in America any longer, never mind my contract. I think it’s time I go somewhere else.” Jiaer didn't reply, just pressed Mark for more with a raising of his eyebrows, and Mark felt the urge to laugh. “I could get my masters at one of the American universities in China, but I couldn't stand studying anymore. And that’s still not where you are.”

“But I could go,” Jiaer said, leaning into Mark. “I could go where you are. I will go where you are.”

“Not with your mother so sick. You’re not going anywhere,” Mark said, voice hard and Jiaer smiled. “My parents are moving back to Taiwan, my sister’s already there, and I think the rest of them are thinking about moving as well. I could negotiate with my contract, so I could train in Taiwan. I know it’s not much, but at least we’d be in the same timezone, and it’s not a long journey if you ever wanted to see me, it’s okay if you feel like it’s not necessary but I just thought-”

Jiaer clamped a hand over Mark’s mouth and looked around them, who made a disgruntled noise and contemplated biting his hand. Before he could do so however, Jiaer pulled his hand away, Mark making to speak again but Jiaer leaning in and pressing his lips to Mark’s, who made a surprised noise before settling into it, placing a hand on Jiaer’s waist as he tilted his head to better fit into him.

Mark felt like his head had been filled with candy floss, only thinking about Jiaer and the feel of his body against his own, hyperaware of every detail about Jiaer right now but unaware of his surroundings, and it was only when Jiaer broke away that Mark remembered that they were in public. 

“Yien,” Jiaer said, pressing his forehead to Yien’s, “you don’t know what I’d give to have you even a centimetre closer to me than you already are. Yes Yien, I would like it if the largest ocean in the world no longer separated us, I would like it very much.”

“Okay,” Mark said, a smile creeping onto his face and he could feel Jiaer's breathing on his face as he laughed, see his eyes light up as he did so, and again Mark was hit with a jolt of realisation that he didn't know when he’d see Jiaer again. “it might take a while though, and I’ll probably be carted across the country for the next few months anyway. I don’t know how long it’ll be till I see you again.”

Jiaer’s expression changed, but not to one of sadness but more to one of annoyance, as he leant back and clasped his forehead in exasperation, muttering under his breath in what Mark could now recognise as Cantonese swearwords. 

“I forgot to say,” Jiaer moaned, pulling his face down and groaning slightly. “my brother invited you to his wedding. It’s in November, in Hawaii. He told me to speak to you about two weeks ago but I completely forgot, I’m such an idiot.”

Mark laughed, and laughed even more as Jiaer looked on in confusion. 

“Tell him yes, I’ll go to his wedding. I’d love to, tell him thank you.” as soon as Mark spoke Jiaer’s face split into a grin, leaning forward and flinging his arms around Mark’s neck, laughing into his skin. “In Hawaii?”

“On the beach,” Jiaer said, nodding. “they were thinking about staying in Australia, but his fiancee wants to swim with dolphins, and honestly, so do I.”

Mark laughed again, and was about to make a comment about something irrelevant when an announcement came over the tannoy, reminding them both that Jiaer’s flight was about to begin boarding. That he had to leave.

Immediately Mark felt ill again, his hands practically shaking as every millimetre of his body rejected the idea of letting go of Jiaer, of being without him again, and Mark willed his body to pull itself together, yet his legs were still shaky as he stood, holding onto Jiaer’s shoulder and trying to hide the fact that it was for his own support.

Jiaer wasn't oblivious however, at least not when it came to Yien, casually placing an arm around Mark’s waist in a casual and completely platonic way, purely out of companionship and not because he was afraid Mark was going to faint. They walked over to the queue, which was already moving down towards the plane. 

Jiaer pulled him in and held him close, and for a moment Mark couldn't move, just stood there, in complete denial that any of this was happening, but his muscle memory kicked in, knowing that this was what he did, he was with Jiaer, where he was meant to be, ingrained on his very body. Images coursed through Mark’s memory, of Jiaer leaving again and again, of Mark alone in his room holding his heart in his hands, of the only trace of Jiaer being the cold metal around his wrist and his neck and a pixelated figure no bigger than his hand on his laptop screen. Mark felt tears begin to burn in the back of his eyes.

Jiaer pulled back slightly, arm still around Mark’s waist and eyes brighter than they usually were. He didn't say anything, just gave a watery smile and brushed his thumb underneath Mark’s eyes, gentle and shaking slightly. 

“A few more months.” Jiaer said, trying to hold his head up.

“It’s always just a few more months,” Mark said, laughing bitterly and swiping his hand against his face, willing his body to cooperate with him for two damn minutes, for Christ’s sake he could win a gold medal for defying fucking gravity but he couldn't stop crying. 

“Never again.” Jiaer said, mouth firm and Mark found himself listening, knowing he would believe anything that Jiaer said, if he told him that the earth was flat and the moon was made out of diamonds, he would believe him. “This is the last time. I can’t go through this again, I can’t let _you_ go through this again.”

“Always so optimistic Gaga,” Mark said, but he smiled leaning in closer to Jiaer. He could see that almost everyone had gone onto the plane, and he had maybe thirty seconds before Jiaer had to leave, feeling like his insides had turned to stone. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Jiaer said, stepping back slightly and running a hand through his hair. He looked around slightly, before rolling his eyes and stepping back towards mark, kissing him and Mark found himself having to stop himself from pulling Jiaer back again. Jiaer stepped back and Mark leant back into him one more time, kissing him loudly on the cheek before spinning him around and patting him on the back, pushing him towards the door down to the plane. 

Jiaer span around again, walking backwards up to the passport desk and even then not looking away from Mark, waving the whole way to the platform, the air hostess looking on in slight fondness and pity. Jiaer continued waving, before the final call rang out on the speakers and he finally turned, and Mark saw him rub at his eyes as he disappeared from sight.

 

As soon as Mark couldn't see Jiaer anymore he felt a massive weight land back on his body that he hadn't even noticed was gone. His head was stuffed with cotton wool and his throat felt too big for his neck, eyes boiling until he couldn't see, staggering over to a seat in the now empty waiting area, collapsing into it and dropping his head to his knees, tears leaking from his eyes and sobs shaking his back, great heaving cries that Mark tried to keep quiet. He sat there until he couldn't cry any more.

He pulled his head back up, breathing hard, sucking in air in gasps and staring out the window in an effort to calm himself. He could see the planes taxiing down the runway, a jet making it’s way down, slowly speeding up, going faster and faster until it lifted off the ground, into the air and further up until it was climbing out of Mark’s sight, gone from his vision.

Mark waited until his breathing had evened out, until his face had cooled down and his throat felt less raw. He stood and waited until the dizziness subsided, and tested out taking a step, going slow until he could stay in a straight line, keeping his head high as he walked back to the team’s gate, settling his face into an expression of calm, smiling as he settled into a seat next to another athlete, putting his headphones in and closing his eyes, and trying to act like Jiaer hadn't just been jettisoned into the sky in a pressurised tin can at hundreds of miles an hour, and trying to act like he wasn't heartbroken.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right so it's kinda over?? just the epilogue now, was not meant to end so angsty but i only enjoy suffering so soz. thanks for reading, leave a comment if u feel!! 
> 
> here's like what they do with the medals http://edition.cnn.com/2012/08/09/living/olympians-bite-medals/


	12. chapter twelve - epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been like a month since i've updated, i'd use my exams as an excuse but i didn't even study for them so i have no reason. i also want to let you know that the majority of this was written as i listened to exo's wolf on repeat.

As Jackson queued in the coffee shop, he was reminded of the way Yien would press slightly closer to him in crowded places, as though wishing he could disappear, and Jackson was reminded of the crushing desire within him to protect Yien. 

As he told the girl at the till his order, the glint of her earrings in the light reminded him of when he’d met with Yien after he’d had his ears pierced, Yien whining about the pain and Jackson had cupped his hands over Yien’s ears in an effort to ease the ache, insisting he go with him next time so Yien could squeeze his hand.

As Jackson waited for his coffee, Yien’s order ran over and over in his head, something he could never forget, like the number of stairs leading up to the apartment building he’d grown up in, the sequence of digits in Yien’s phone number, the times of day his mother had to take her medicine, the exact positioning of the scar on Yien’s hand from where he fell off his bike when he was thirteen, the number of stops between his high school and his apartment, and every single tiny detail about Yien that were as constant to Jackson as the changing of the tides is to the land.

Jackson shook his head, clearing his mind of such things as he stepped out of the coffee shop and into the airport terminal, which was quieter than Jackson was used to, given that it was so late at night. It was only a few more hours till he next saw Yien, and it burned inside of him. But even with Yien running through his mind all the time, he was still everywhere Jackson looked.

Even if Jackson hadn't actively sought them out, advertisements endorsed by Yien’s Olympic team were everywhere, playing before Youtube videos, showing up on Facebook and stalling Jackson’s heart, and his time as he sat replaying them over and over.

And here was no different. As Jackson approached his gate, advertisements for his airline began to show up as he walked through the terminal. He passed by them, barely registering them before one came into sharp focus, Jackson’s mind picking up the slope of a shoulder that was now as familiar to him as his own reflection.

Jackson paused, looking at the poster and seeing a photo of Yien and a group of flight attendants, angled to seem as though it was Yien who had taken it, the airlines logo in the bottom corner. Jackson paused to ensure no one was paying attention to him, standing next to the poster and pulling out his phone, positioning his head next to Yien’s slightly larger one, smiling with his mouth open as he took a picture, taking a few more with various different poses (including one with his eyes closed, lips in a pout and next to Yien’s cheek), laughing to himself as he sent them to Yien. 

Jackson looked up, checking furtively to ensure no one was looking at him, believing he was in the clear before making eye contact with the flight attendant manning the desk to check him onto his flight. She held the eye contact as she called over the tannoy for group one to begin boarding, Jackson stepping forward sheepishly, clutching his boarding pass and smiling awkwardly as she scanned it.

She smiled at him knowingly, eyebrows raising as she read the name on his passport, smiling wider as she wished him a safe flight and Jackson began to walk down onto the plane. He’d often been recognised in Hong Kong, but never really in Korea until now, where team sponsors had taken advantage of his language abilities and requirement to fill out advertising quotas, leading to Jackson being stopped in the street on a daily basis due to someone recognising him from a commercial for pet insurance.

He’d planned to sleep on the flight, but began to browse the film selection once he was seated out of curiosity. There was a gift bag on his seat filled with various merchandise from the airline, most of it emblazoned with the American Olympic team’s logo, and Jackson rummaged through it, pulling on the pair of socks and taking another picture, sending it to Yien. He owed it to Yien anyway, who’d pulled some strings and had Jackson upgraded to first class for free, showing that there were at least some benefits to only getting to see his boyfriend through a computer screen.

Jackson settled back to watch a film he would never have seen had it not been for the circumstances, putting his headphones on and his mobile on flight mode. Despite his best efforts, Jackson could rarely sleep on planes, and prepared himself for a restless journey. He knew he ought to sleep, and that he’d be exhausted once he arrived in Hawaii. His exams had only just finished, and he’d all but graduated now, but he’d been so busy he could only fly out two days before the actual wedding, leaving things a lot later than they ought to be. He’d have to cram for all of his preparations as best man, especially since he wanted to spend every spare moment with Yien. He needed to.

His movie paused and an announcement played through his headphones, saying that there’d been a problem with the runway, meaning they’d likely be delayed at least an hour. Jackson tried not to outwardly groan, closing his eyes and trying to not panic. He thought of calming things, of clouds pushing across a hazy sky, of the quiet rush of rain against windows, of Yien looking at Jackson in that quiet, steady way of his, and Jackson found himself smiling as his film started again, the roar inside of him that cried out to be with Yien silenced to a whimper for now.

 

They ended up being delayed for almost three hours, and the flight itself longer than it ought to be, landing in Hawaii a full six hours later than they had intended. Upon checking his phone, he saw Yien’s flight had left early, and he’d be landing an hour after Jackson had actually got there. Seeing no point in heading to the hotel, he neglected to tell his brother his flight had gotten in, having already let him know he’d be later than expected. An hour wouldn't do any harm, especially since it was too late at night to do anything worthwhile in preparations. He just hoped his brother wouldn't think to check his arrival time, or he’d have some explaining to do.

This had happened often, Jackson waiting for Yien, a cup of coffee in-between his knees as he sat in the waiting area, another cup next to him as he stared into space. By the time Jackson’d made it through immigration and picked up his bag Yien’s flight was due to come in in the next twenty minutes, so Jackson leant back and watched the other passengers coming through in an effort to stay awake.

The board above the door said Yien’s flight arrived ten minutes ago, and Yien had no need to go through immigration, so Jackson downed his coffee and tried to focus. He stood, chucking his now empty cup into a bin and making sure his case wasn't doing to fall over if he stood up too quickly.

People began to filter through the arrivals gate, and from the small dogs a few women were carrying and the surfboards other people were rolling out on trolleys, Jackson had a feeling this was the Los Angeles flight. Jackson began to bounce on the balls of his feet, a rolling sensation inside him making him feel restless. What if Yien had grown tired of him in the few months they’d been away from each other, and had been waiting to tell him in person?

His mind was reeling so much he almost didn't see the man walking out of the gate behind a group of elderly men in Hawaiian shirts, sleeves pulled down over his hands, bag slung over his shoulder and staring at his phone, almost bumping into the people ahead of him. 

Yien looked up absentmindedly, his eyes roaming over the hall with mild disinterest, until he stopped, eyes widening. Jackson began to walk towards him but not fast enough. Yien began to jog, almost running, and Jackson matched his pace, dodging people and colliding with him in the middle, knocking Yien’s bag to the floor.

Yien jumped slightly as he came into Jackson’s arms, and Jackson flung his arms around Yien’s waist, pulling him up as Yien wrapped his legs around Jackson, Jackson spinning slightly from the force of Yien jumping onto him and Yien laughed. Jackson felt it bubble against his skin, and he’d missed him so fucking much, setting Yien down and pulling him into himself, his arms struggling to grip Yien’s shirt even tighter to get him closer. Yien’s hands fisted the fabric of Jackson’s shirt as he murmured into Jackson’s skin, Jackson breathing into his hair, still soft, still smelling like the shampoo he always managed to use, so familiar in his arms despite all the times they’d been separated, the relief of having Yien back with him still overwhelming as it fizzed inside.

Jackson pulled back slightly, skimming his hands under Yien’s shirt and as he inhaled against Jackson’s neck. Yien looked up, so close to him, and Jackson couldn't stand it anymore, leaning in and touching his lips to Yien’s. He was delicate, slightly apprehensive, but Jackson could _feel_ Yien rolling his eyes as he clutched at Jackson’s neck, pulling him in further and deepening the kiss, mouth opening slightly and pressure increasing as he moved closer, closer to Jackson. He couldn't stand it, running his hands over Yien’s back, tilting his head to push closer to Yien. He was gasping, everything else around him crashing away and his eyes burning, tears slipping down his face as he kissed Yien.

Yien pulled back, lips red and cheeks flushed, teeth flashing as he grinned, laughing slightly at Jackson, who flushed. Yien leaned forward, kissing his cheeks lightly, meeting the tears where they running down Jackson’s face and Jackson laughed, tugging Yien into him, one hand on his back and the other in his hair, Yien looping his arms around Jackson’s back from where he was crushed into Jackson’s chest, Jackson pressing his lips to where Yien’s ear met his jaw.

“Missed you,” was all Jackson managed to choke out, voice breaking as he spoke, closing his eyes and tightening his grip in Yien’s hair, bending his face down to lean it on top of Yien’s shoulder. Yien raised his head from where he was pressed to Jackson’s chest, facing into his neck and murmuring into it, rocking slightly as Jackson let tears seep out of his eyes, Yien blinking his own away as Jiaer soaked the fabric of his t-shirt, his shoulders shaking as Yien stroked his back, his heartbeat steady once again as his Jiaer was finally back in his arms. 

“C’mon you sap,” Yien said, shaking as he laughed and Jackson felt it rock his body. “take me to the dolphins.”

  

Mark tumbled out of bed at a reasonable hour, just after ten, rummaging through his case as he got ready, eyes bleary as he stumbled into the shower. Jiaer had woken early, at least compared to when he usually got up, off to sort a hundred and one things for the wedding. Mark’d woken as Jiaer stumbled about the room, his efforts at keeping quiet failing as they always did. Mark had made some kind of discontented noise and Jiaer had flopped onto the bed next to him, pressing kisses to his face and mouthing apologies to his skin, promising he’d be back soon. Mark had just smiled, shoving him off so he’d go and get the jobs done and be back quickly, rolling over and going back to sleep.

Mark made his way out of his and Jiaer’s room, trying to remember the way back down to the lobby to try and find some breakfast. He eventually got to the dining room, but before a waiter could approach him he heard his name being called, and looked over to see Jiaer’s brother standing up and waving him over. Mark found himself making his way over and sitting down, someone immediately coming over and pouring him a cup of coffee, to which Mark was grateful. He ordered, before turning back and smiling at Jiaer’s brother, only slightly awkward.

“So Yien,” Jiaer’s brother said, leaning forward and resting his head on his palm, elbows braced against the table. “guess you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Mark was taking a sip of his coffee as he said this, and he immediately choked, face heating as Jiaer’s brother leant forward and slapped him on the back, hard.

“Gaga had the exact same reaction the last time we saw each other before the games.” he said, laughing, and Mark tried to meet his eyes. “It’s all good, we can talk about these things, we’re both guys right? We’re basically family, you can call me ge if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Mark said, grinning, the expression mirrored in the man sitting opposite him. “so what’re you doing here, the day before your wedding eating breakfast at noon when my poor boyfriend is ripped from my bedside at the crack of dawn?”

“Late night,” he replied with a wink, and Mark snorted. “I’m serious! I’ll be on my own tonight, we can’t see each other before the wedding. And Gaga’ll be with my darling fianceé, having an aneurysm over tablecloths or something. He’ll be done soon though, so don’t stress.”

Mark laughed again, and he could feel his face light up as his breakfast was put in front of him. He started eating, and they sat in comfortable silence for a minute.

“So do you want to hear any embarrassing stories about my baby brother or not?” Jiaer’s brother eventually asked and Mark nodded so fast his neck hurt, his brothers eyes spreading into a smile as he pulled out his phone to show him pictures, already inputting Mark’s phone number into his contacts to send them to him.

 

Mark pretended not to notice as he saw Jiaer blinking away tears, as he was feeling slightly emotional himself. It was one of the most beautiful things Mark had ever seen. The sun had began to drift down behind the ocean midway through the ceremony, and was lighting the couple in a glow that had the backs of Mark’s eyes stinging. The looks on their faces were that of pure, unadulterated joy, smiles only growing as the ceremony went on. The hues of the sky behind them had changed so subtly throughout the evening that Mark had scarcely realised as it changed from a haze covered blue to pink shined gold, violet edging towards the rest of the sky as the clouds pushed forward and the sun edged back behind the horizon. 

Mark turned to look at Jiaer, laughter pulling at the edge of his eyes as he looked at his boyfriend trying to hold in tears. Rather than laugh, he reached out and took Jiaer’s hand in his own, tracing his thumb over Jiaer’s fingers, Jiaer gripping him tightly as his shoulders relaxed. Even now, Jiaer was the most beautiful part of the scene, the sun lighting his profile golden, his eyes dark and eyelashes shadowed on his cheekbones. His lips were red raw from biting them, eyes shining but looking at Mark, still smiling.

 

Jiaer seemed drained as he sat, spread out in a chair watching the dancers, only glancing up as Mark approached him with beer and concern. He’d started to flag as the speeches were made, and despite it not being too late, only now approaching midnight, Jiaer looked exhausted.

He took the drink, grateful as Mark sat down, chugging it back and throwing an arm over Mark’s shoulders and pulling him close, kissing the top of his head before settling his own head in the crook of Mark’s neck, barely awake.

“When we get married,” he mumbled into Mark’s skin, “we’re paying someone to sort everything, and not passing it onto unsuspecting younger brothers. Joey doesn't deserve that.”

“We’re gonna get married?” Mark replied, an eyebrow raised and laughter tracing his voice.

Jiaer raised his head from Mark’s neck, mouth opening and closing as he realised what he’d just said. 

“Well, I mean, eventually, I guess, I just assumed, I mean, we don’t have to-“

Mark leant forward, not even bothering to check if anyone was looking at them, pulling Jiaer towards him and kissing him to shut him up. He flailed for a moment but settled into it, place his hands on Mark’s waist and smiling, pulling back and leaning his forehead onto Mark’s.

“We can do whatever you want,” Yien said, as Jiaer beamed, pulling him back towards him.

 

 

Leaving him never got any easier. Saying goodbye got easier, walking away got easier, letting the distance grow between them and feeling the ball of hurt inside of him grow bigger with every breath that came between them, that got easier, as he knew it would. But leaving him never did. Seeing his hands shake and his eyes growing bright, hearing his breathing grow uneven and his voice begin to shake. Leaving him never got any easier.

 

 

Jackson no longer felt nervous waiting for Yien, only need. He’d wanted to meet him at the airport, but the whole reason for Yien coming to Hong Kong was for a medical. The team didn't have an approved medic in Taiwan, so Yien’d had to come to Hong Kong for his appointment. Of course, he could've visited the approved medic in Fuzhou, but Yien’d somehow convinced the team to let him come here instead. He’d gone to his appointment as soon as he’d landed, giving him more free time, and more time with Jackson.

Jackson resisted the urge to pace as he waited in the hall of the subway station. It’d started to rain since he’d gone under cover, and the pounding of the rain against the pavement was drowning out the throbbing of blood in his eardrums. Swarms of people would come up from the platform, steady as a heartbeat as each train stopped off.

He allowed himself to grow slightly worried as time passed, about whether or not Yien had gotten on the right line, if he knew what station to get off at, how to get up from the platform, whether or not he’d fallen onto the tracks, or been kidnapped, or trampled by vicious businessman on their way home from work.

Just as the worry began to edge into stress, another pulse of passengers came through the barrier. Jackson looked up on reflex, and his eyes began to try and identify faces of their own accord. They settled on someone at the back of the crowd and Jackson found himself standing, not walking yet, waiting until he felt steady enough and walking forward to Yien.

He was the same, was always the same, and as he grew closer Jackson realised how Yien had always been the same to him, had never really changed. Because to Jackson, he wasn't something that could change, because he loved him. He loved everything Yien could ever be, and so as new things came along and things were different about him, Jackson loved them too, loved them because they became part of Yien, and so they were part of Jackson himself.

As Yien fell into Jackson’s arms, as they moved of their own volition to pull him tight, Jackson burying his face in Yien’s neck and feeling Yien’s arms curve around his waist, Jackson felt whole again. He could never be apart from Yien, not really. Yien had grown within him like flowers in cracks in the pavement, that would return again and again. Yien was part of him and whilst being separated was a denial of who Jackson was, it couldn't hurt him in the way it once had, because they were no longer two separate beings. There would now never be a time where Yien was not a part of Jiaer, not if they were kept apart for a hundred, for a thousand years. He was part of him, eternally. 

But right now, Yien was tired, and his bag was heavy, and it was raining and he was hungry. So Jackson picked up Yien’s bag, held an umbrella over him and let him lean on him, as they headed into the city towards Jackson’s apartment, to rest.

  

It was over steaming mugs of tea at midnight that they spoke. The night was flickering outside of the window, and they faced each other, legs curled together under the table. The silence was comfortable, hanging in the air with the steam that rose.

“Did the medical go okay?” Jiaer asked, head resting in his palm. “You were there a while.”

“Not too bad,” Yien replied, leaning back slightly, hands clasped around his mug and drawing warmth from it. “they’re a bit worried about my health in general but they’ll just keep a closer eye on everything.”

“And how’ll they do that?” Jiaer asked, standing up and walking over to the sink to rinse out his mug. “Skype calls or something?”

“They want me to move here.” Yien said, taking a long drink from his cup, the kitchen quiet apart from the sound of the water pouring from the sink and a spoon clattering to the floor.

“What?” Jiaer asked, not turning around, gripping the countertop.

“Yeah, the team think it’s best if I’m nearer an approved medic, especially since I’m training abroad.” Yien said, continuing to drink his tea. “They began the application for a Visa this afternoon. It won’t take too long, and they’ve already sorted out a deal with a coach. The team are gonna find me an apartment too, since they’re inconveniencing me, though it’ll probably be a matchbox in the outer territories-“

“Bullshit, you’re living with me.” Jiaer said, cutting Yien off and turning around, face blank. “You’re not messing with me right? Are you serious?”

Yien didn't reply, but he stood, grinning wide as he turned to face Jiaer. 

“Yes Gaga, I’m kidding, I don’t want to live with you, in fact I’m leaving you and I’m going to run away with Youngjae’s dog because we’re in love-“

Jiaer moved forward and tackled Yien, laughter filling the kitchen, Jiaer picking Yien up and shifting him over his shoulder, carrying him through to the living room as Yien pounded his back with his fists, giggling as he was thrown down on the sofa, Jiaer flopping down on top of him. His forehead leant against Yien’s as he threaded their fingers together, resting their entwined hands above them.

“I’d make a much better roommate than Youngjae’s dog,” Jiaer said, pouting, Yien laughing in his face which only increased the pout. “and I’m cuter.”

“Maybe,” Yien said, not meeting Jiaer’s eyes. “and you make good coffee, and I don’t need to pay rent. Plus you don’t bark. I may reconsider your offer.”

“You’re evil,” Jiaer said, dropping his head into Yien’s neck and groaning. “you’re lucky I love you,” he sighed, air puffing onto the skin of Yien’s neck. 

“Yeah. I am.” Yien said, running one hand under Jiaer’s shirt and the other through his hair, leaning up to press his lips to Jiaer’s temple, breathing in and closing his eyes, at peace, with Jiaer in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's over?? omg. and to think i published the first chapter of this accidentally and was to embarrassed to take it down. wow. 
> 
> anyway, tysm to everyone who's read n commented n kudosed, you're all so lovely. thank u to anyone i've annoyed with forcing them to read bits i'm unsure of, and thank u for putting up with my inexperience of writing anything that isn't angst. also thank u for putting up with my shitty updating timings, my spelling mistakes, and my refusal to capitalise anything ever. i'm a terrible human.
> 
> i've already half started another markson fic but i think i'll take a break from that maybe, keep an eye out but will probs be a while before jiaer n yien make another appearance, at least as a main pairing. there are at least four other fics in the works right now, so i'm sorry but you've not seen the last of me. again, thank you to everyone who's read this thing, i never thought so many people would read this piece of shit, but i'm glad you've all liked it. thank you!!


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